The Hunt
by lickitysplit
Summary: Meliodas, Estarossa, and Zeldris head out into Britannia on a dragon hunt, but end up hunting something else entirely when they run into some unexpected trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** When the three demon princes go on a dragon hunt, they run into some unexpected trouble.

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! This is a one-shot... for now... but I always say that and then end up writing another 46732 chapters! :D So let me know what you think and if I should continue? We'll see.

I must give a shout out to Cerulean Grace, because without her this fic would not have happened. We discuss these boys way more than is probably healthy for anyone, and will need an intervention soon.

Also I'd like to thank my dear friend Vetur02 for allowing me to use one of her sketches as the artwork for this fic! If you've never taken a look at her stuff stop what you are doing right now (reading this fic) and check her out at vetur02 dot tumblr dot com. You will be as awed as I am!

* * *

There is still dew on the grass as Zeldris walks steadily through the forest. His boots make a wet sound as they crush the green blades, the only thing to be heard for miles around. The birds and animals have abandoned this part of the forest; only an occasional cricket chirps or wayward bee flies by.

With the sunrise, the mist that had covered the forest is lifting steadily. Despite the slight chill in the air, the demon does not notice. His sole focus is on the silent area he now searches. Zeldris stops for a moment to scan the trees around him, his powers sliding outward to catch a scent or a sound of anyone, or any _thing_ , that might be nearby, finding nothing.

He takes up his path again, weaving through a series of tall, skinny trees that might have been laid out in a deliberate pattern. Zeldris glances up to see the green tops many yards above him. Patches of cloudy blue sky peek through, covering the ground in moving shadows.

After a while, his senses pick up the presence of another. He pauses, his hand immediately going to the sword strapped to his left side. There is a rushing in his ears as he summons his powers, ready to defend or strike as needed, probing the energy that is approaching for more information. However, the intruder is enshrouded in darkness, making it impossible for him to see who or what it is. It's a defensive technique that could only be summoned by a being more powerful than he; as the son of the demon king, there are few in the world who can claim such a trait.

Narrowing his eyes, he slowly pulls his sword from its sheath, careful not to make any noise. Zeldris looks over his shoulder towards the source, his power reaching like a beacon to pinpoint the newcomer's location. Once the target is close enough he can be completely sure of its position, he smiles. The demon mark across his forehead blazes as he calls out a command, " _Hellblaze Ruin_."

Dark blue flames shoot from his sword, ghosting along the forest floor and leaving a scorch mark in their wake. They flash out of sight, and moments later an explosion sounds from several hundred yards away. Zeldris smirks to himself, knowing that whoever is daring to follow him would be thinking twice before doing it again.

"Was that meant for me?" says a voice behind him, and Zeldris whirls, his sword flashing. Metal clashes against metal, and a loud clang interrupts the silence as his sword is stopped by a metal arm brace.

Zeldris growls and jumps backwards, landing several feet away. He skids to a stop, his sword raised high. "I should have known," he answers thickly.

Estarossa huffs with amusement. "You completely missed. You'll need to do much better than that if you want to impress him."

"Impress him?" Zeldris scoffs as he sheathes his sword. "What do I need to impress him for? We're on a hunt. This isn't a training exercise."

Estarossa gives him a smirk as he begins walking. The younger demon watches him closely as he laughs, "Haven't you figured it out, Zeldris? Everything is a training exercise."

Zeldris grumbles under his breath and follows. They head more or less in the direction that his attack had flown, and Estarossa laughs when he sees the side of a small hill collapsed in on itself. "Excellent aim," he teases, and Zeldris grits his teeth as his fingers dance along the hilt of his sword.

"You were the one stalking me," he mutters, but his brother only laughs again.

"Did you really expect me not to?" asks Estarossa. "You were making such a racket, I had to see for myself what you were."

He has picked up his pace a bit, and Zeldris walks faster to keep up. "Who cares about what noise I was making?" he retorts. "There's nothing in this forest."

Estarossa whirls around and steps in front of him, blocking his path. "You are an idiot," he says, leaning over a bit. The taller demon uses his height to force his brother to take a step backwards. "There is always someone watching, and you must assume that they are stronger and faster and better than you. The first step to defeating an enemy is to evade them altogether."

Zeldris gives him a disgusted look. "Spoken like a coward. Tell me, do all the Commandments turn and run at danger, or is just Love?"

Estarossa's eyes narrow, regarding him for a moment, before he throws his head back and laughs. "You almost had me there, brother," he chuckles.

He turns and continues walking, and a seething Zeldris continues to follow. "Since you asked," Estarossa throws over his shoulder, "it takes more than strength to become an elite warrior. Knowing when not to fight is just as important as picking a strategy to defeat an enemy."

Zeldris makes a scowl at his back. "You wouldn't need to step back from a fight if your strength outmatches the enemy's." The ground slopes upwards, and they climb the embankment together. "Again, I say it's a coward's idea."

When they reach the top of hill, Zeldris looks around in a huff. Below them stretches more of the forest, the trees thinning out a bit towards the west as the ground becomes more uneven. "Do you even know where we are going? We're looking for a cave, and we won't find one at the top of anything."

"There," Estarossa says simply. His power flares as he jumps straight into the air, and then Zeldris is up and after him. Black wings erupt out behind each of the demons as they take off in flight. They glide easily through the trees of the silent forest, Zeldris staying fast and close on his brother's trail, until he dives back towards the earth. The demon follows suit, excited for a bit of actual action, and they touch down inside of a clump of tall trees.

Zeldris swallows, not wanting Estarossa to see him catch his breath. "Where are we now?"

"If you could be quiet for a minute, you'd know," his brother answers.

He gives the elder demon a black look, but stills himself. They listen closely, and then Zeldris hears the sound of water. It is not rushing like a river, but trickling like a brook. He turns his head and takes in a deep breath. The smell of the fresh water is unmistakable, but it is tinged with something unusual. There are still no animals to be heard in the distance, but there is now a vibration that is coming up from the ground beneath them. He looks down and kicks a rock a few feet away; when it lands, it bounces, and Zeldris can see it trembling instead of laying still on the ground.

The demon smiles to himself, and then looks at his brother. He also has a half-smile on his face, the corner of his mouth twisted up a bit. "Do you smell that?" Estarossa asks quietly. "That metallic scent is the runoff from the beast's waste. I think we found our dragon." Then his eyes dart to the side and says, "I think we've been found as well."

Immediately Zeldris senses it too, and this time he does not hesitate. His sword is drawn and the _Hellblaze_ command is out of his mouth before his brother can say another word. In a flash his power surges outward as he sends the attack towards the malicious energy that is rapidly approaching. But then, there is a searing pain as he is flung backwards, crashing a second later into the base of a large tree. The impact breaks the thick trunk in half, but it is enough to slow down his trajectory. Zeldris collides into the ground, forming a small crater with his body, the boughs and leaves of the tree raining down over him.

All of this happens in a matter of a second, leaving Zeldris to blink up at the sky in fury. Then, to his chagrin, Estarossa appears in his line of vision, his brother stepping over him to look down in his face. "What did I tell you?" asks the demon, raising his eyebrows. "Know when _not_ to fight."

"Get off of me," he snaps back, quickly climbing to his feet. His skin is on fire and his muscles are aching from the impact, but his face remains stoic as they both turn towards the source of the attack.

Just as they had suspected, Meliodas is perched on the top of a boulder, grinning at them both. His sword is slung lazily on his shoulder, and the only armor he wears are arm and shin guards. He tilts his head to the side as he smirks. "Run into some trouble there, Zeldris?"

The dark-haired demon grits his teeth and steps forward, raising the hand still clutching his sword out to the side. Meliodas, however, looks unfazed by his threatening approach, and hops down to the ground with an air of ease. "Took the two of you long enough. I thought the war would be over by the time you both showed up."

Estarossa gives a snort, but Zeldris is still fuming. "You could have evaded my _Hellblaze_ ," he bites out angrily. "You could have even performed _Vanish_. Did you have to use _Full Counter_ on your own brother?"

Meliodas folds his arms in mock astonishment. "How was I to know it was you? Enemies lurk around every corner. You could have been a Holy Knight, or a fairy, or even a goddess bent on destroying me."

Zeldris growls, but replaces his sword. Meliodas gives him a satisfied smirk before nodding to the side. "It's this way. About ten miles due northeast."

"It has to be huge in order to drive away the animals in such a large arc," Estarossa says, his smile widening.

Meliodas gives a harsh laugh, slinging his sword over his back. It slides into the sheath he wears, compressing into a size small enough to easily fit against him. "Let's go find out."

Together, the three brothers move. They travel together silently, each concentrating on the forest around them and the creature that lays ahead. The sight of three such beings would have been sure to douse any observer with sudden fear, their focus on their target, their intention nothing short of killing. The air grows thicker as they walk, the grass giving way to a wide dirt trail that snakes through the trees. It is easy to see the rut in the ground that the dragon caused as it dragged its body towards the cave in which it now resides.

They come upon the brook, the dirt along its banks black as ink. The smell is stronger now, and grows stronger still as they follow it upstream. None of them make a sound or speak, moving around one another instinctually. Meliodas is the clear leader in this mission, however; with a side glance or the movement of his chin gives commands to the other two, who obey without question.

In addition to the metallic odor, the temperature of the air begins to rise as they walk. The trees grow scarcer, and those that remain are burned black or left halfway destroyed in piles of gray ash. Meliodas strides forward confidently, squeezing his fists in anticipation. On his right, Zeldris moves quickly to keep pace, unable to help the smile of excitement; to the left, Estarossa moves effortlessly, his face blank with concentration. When the cave finally comes into sight, Meliodas draws his sword from his back, the blade expanding to its grotesque full length as it is released from its sheath. The other two follow instantly, Zeldris pulling his short sword from its place on his hip, as Estarossa summons his own curved weapon from the air.

As one, they stop. The entrance to the cave is little more than a large hole in the side of a rise. The ground ahead slopes upwards, forming a hill, its face smooth and steep and covered in blackened moss. There is little grass beneath their feet, only dead leaves and patches of burnt thicket here and there. Thick, gnarled roots of trees long since destroyed twist in and out of the dirt. The cave gapes at them, the darkness inside thick and not giving away any indication that anything lurks within. Utter silence covers them.

"Zeldris," Meliodas finally says. His voice sounds like a shot in the quiet.

The demon jumps at the sound. His head jerks to the side to look at his brother, but the blonde has not moved. "Stay back and watch," he finally says.

Zeldris bristles at the command. "How _dare_ you," he growls, but he is cut off when he hears Meliodas begin to chant.

The words are ancient, in their native tongue, and carry a power that seems to rock the ground with each uttered syllable. Zeldris' eyes go wide as he tries to make out their meaning, the lessons from tutors many years ago slipping through his mind like a sieve. Unable to grasp what the demon is saying, he keeps his eyes trained on the dark entrance to the cave, his shoulders tight, the grip on his sword even tighter.

Meliodas changes his stance slightly, and then there is a great wind that begins to blow outward from the cave. There is a rushing noise, as if a bolt of energy is flying straight towards them. But Meliodas does not flinch, and as the air hits him, he remains unmoving on the ground. His hair and clothing blow wildly about, but he only narrows his eyes, his chin tilting down as if he is listening.

"Estarossa!" he shouts suddenly, but the taller demon is already moving. He sprints into the air, twisting to the side, the onyx blade in his hand flashing. His sword is engulfed in a blast of light, and then Estarossa is holding a long black chain, swinging it easily around him. Then both brothers put a hand out, calling a command.

A barrier only a trained eye can see appears between them and the cave, and not a moment too soon; a split second later a blast of fire comes roaring from the opening. However, it slams against the barrier and shoots upwards, flaring out into the sky, and none of the demons are harmed.

Estarossa lands with ease at the left side of the cave. "It's coming," he warns over his shoulder, and in a flash Meliodas moves right. Zeldris can barely keep up their movements as they flank the opening, but then his attention is drawn by the beast that finally appears. The demon nods to himself, understanding now that the words Meliodas had used compelled it to appear, some kind of demon magic created for such an occasion.

He had seen dragons before, certainly. Zeldris had done his own hunting during his training with the army, but then he had moved with a squad of no less than twenty demons to take down a dragon. But even before that, he was more than familiar with the creatures; his brothers were skilled dragon hunters. However, the ones he had seen were already subdued, brought back to the demon realm for breeding or food or training. This one is a very alive, and very untamed dragon. Its neck is long, the scales a mixture of brown and blue, the wings beginning just above the shoulder joints of its front legs. Only the top half of the body emerges, but it is enough to allow a guess on the immense size that remains hidden.

The other two are not fazed by the size or fearsomeness of the creature. The front claws, thick with scales and each containing four huge, sharp talons, swipe outwards; but Estarossa is ready, swinging the chain. It wraps around the beast's forearm, and he heaves it to the side, causing the dragon to crash to the ground.

The dragon roars in pain, and the sound echoes through the forest. The ground itself shakes, and Zeldris braces himself; but the older two demons are already moving. Meliodas swings his giant sword, and the dragon dodges, its neck snaking to the side and easily avoiding the blade. However, as it moves, Estarossa also moves. He tosses the chain, which wraps around its neck; the demon jumps into the air, pulling upwards, snapping the dragon's neck back and up.

Another roar rocks the forest. As the dragon is distracted by its pain, the two switch positions. They move with an incredible speed, their agility as they weave around each other and the beast an incredible sight. The dragon is smart enough to keep its vulnerable underbelly inside the cave, so the two demons work together to take out any other spot they can reach. Estarossa continues to wrap the dragon in his chain, the links growing longer on their own as more and more is needed; meanwhile, Meliodas takes out its eyes, hacks off three of its talons, and stabs between cracks in its scales. They are no longer calling instructions to one another, their victory all but assured as the dragon slowly becomes incapacitated. Now when one speaks, it is with a quip or a shout of praise for the other. Zeldris watches and takes it all in, knowing that in just a few minutes more, his brothers will be victorious.

His palm itches, wanting to get in on the action, but he knows better than to disobey an order from Meliodas. So Zeldris watches, trying to memorize their movements, knowing that there will be some kind of test on this later. His eyes dart back and forth, tracking them.

Suddenly a warning pierces the back of his neck, and he turns. There is a new presence rapidly approaching, and the turns as he draws his sword. His senses pick up something, _a weapon_ , flying straight towards him, but Zeldris is moving, his blade slicing upwards. He huffs in satisfaction as he feels the impact; when he looks down to see what it was, he finds two halves of a spear lying in the dirt.

His eyes go wide with recognition, and he whirls and shouts, "Meliodas!" Two more spears go flying past him, too fast for him to deflect. Estarossa turns towards him at the sound of his shout; he gives his own and jerks backwards as a second spear whizzes past his head. It misses him by inches and slams into the side of the hill, implanting into the rock with a dull thud. He gives a cry of surprise, heaving the chains in his hands as he turns his attention from the dragon back to the forest surrounding them.

Meliodas, however, does not turn. He simply reaches out his free hand, his arm shooting to the side faster than an ordinary person could see, and he catches the spear aimed for him.

Zeldris's eyes dart from the forest back to his brothers. Estarossa is scanning the trees, but Meliodas does not bother to look. Instead, he walks towards the moaning and writhing dragon that lays on the ground, easily evading the half-hearted swipe of its claw as he approaches. When he is only a few feet away, he raises his sword to deal a fatal blow. But then a voice rings out, "Stop right there!"

To his brothers' surprise, Meliodas actually pauses. Both Zeldris and Estarossa turn their attention to the direction from which the voice came. It was an unmistakably female voice, so out of place in this scorched place with the dying beast in front of them. Estarossa growls in anger. He steps over to where the weapon sent for him is embedded in the rock, reaching out to touch it; but then he shouts and jerks backwards, his hand smoking with a burn. "Goddesses," he says, his tone murderous, his expression black as he looks back at his brothers.

Meliodas, who still has not turned, continues holding his spear. The other two can see now the smoke that rises from his palm, but the demon prince does not even flinch. His head is dipped down as he stares at the dragon, but his back is straight, his shoulders rising and falling with each slow breath. The demons wait for him to move or give a command, watching.

Finally he turns, just slightly, and throws the spear away. His mouth turns up in a cruel smile, and at the same time, he raises his sword again.

"I said stop!" the voice calls again, and again Meliodas pauses. "Do not kill that dragon! If you lay down your weapons now, we will allow you to leave with your lives. You are surrounded."

The forest returns to silence as the female voice dies out. Meliodas turns then, the cave now at his back, finally facing outwards towards the source of the attack. For the third time, he raises his sword, but this time, when the command comes for him to stop, he does not hesitate. The blades slices straight through the scales along the dragon's neck, leaving a huge gash in its flesh. Blood pours from the wound like a river, and the dragon begins to thrash, its cries stilted as it convulses.

Another spear comes flying out from the trees, aimed straight for Meliodas. It is too quick for Zeldris to stop it, and Estarossa gives a shout of warning. But the blonde demon is fast enough. He jumps to the side to evade the weapon, which lands in the shoulder of the dying dragon. The beast gives a whine as it collapses completely, its movements growing still as the life drains rapidly away.

Estarossa is now lit with fury. He pulls on the chain, which slithers back into his hand. In another instant, it has returned to the form of the curved, black sword, and Estarossa launches himself forward. "Filthy goddesses!" he roars.

"Careful, brother!" Meliodas calls. "No need for such anger."

"They tried to kill you," he responds bitterly. There is a sudden movement in the trees, and all three turn to see several figures take off into the sky. Their white wings are visible for an instant before they are gone, and then Estarossa takes off in a run, his own black wings appearing behind him as he takes flight.

Zeldris watches all this in shock, whirling around to Meliodas once Estarossa is gone. His older brother walks towards him leisurely, and Zeldris cries out, "What do we do?"

"We're going," answers Meliodas. His tone is easy, conversational, but tinged with an obvious threat.

"What about the dragon?" Zeldris asks.

Meliodas steps up next to him and gives him a cruel grin. "Leave it for now. We have something new to hunt."

.o0o.

The goddesses had taken off in several directions, but Estarossa easily trails the one he is sure is the leader. She flies faster that he had expected, darting around trees and weaving in and out of the forest to try to escape him. But Estarossa is an expert tracker, and nothing she does will keep him from reaching her and putting his hands around her neck.

Whether it is fatigue or the realization she cannot outrun him, Estarossa can't be sure of, when finally the goddess dives at the ground. She is gone by the time he also reaches the floor of the forest, but it is easy enough for him to pick up her trail. He runs through the brush, chasing her, and in only a few minutes he sees the unmistakable shimmer of silver hair disappearing behind a tree.

Estarossa shoots to the side, and his calculation pays off. She emerges in front of him, her attention where he used to be, not seeing him directly in her path until it is too late. The demon throws a punch, which the goddess is at least skilled enough to mostly block. Instead of knocking her to the ground, it only causes her stumble a bit, but she easily rights herself, falling into a fighting stance a moment later.

The demon smiles when he sees her determined expression. Blue eyes look coldly at him, her beautiful face drawn into a scowl of contempt. Her silver hair is long, probably down to her waist, he guesses, but is pulled back and tied away from her face. The simple white uniform displays a body that is both enticing and strong. She holds a spear in one hand, and he notes the dagger strapped to her thigh and the quiver and bow slung over her back. Her wings are drawn in and pressed flat against her shoulder blades.

Estarossa chuckles. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you," he says.

"You won't be killing me or anything else today, demon," she answers with a voice dripping with contempt.

He darts forward, going on the offensive instantly to try to throw her off balance; but to his delight, the goddess proves to be a more than skilled combatant. She easily blocks his blows with her spear, and their weapons strike again and again as they move around one another. Each thrust is aimed to kill, but she counters his with her own, until they are both breathing heavily and their skin is beaded with perspiration.

"You are quite skilled, goddess," Estarossa says as she ducks to avoid the swing of his blade.

"Shut up," she mutters, her own spear aimed for his thigh, which he evades with a kick.

Despite the danger of the situation, Estarossa enjoys the way she moves, the way they fight. Most of her parries are purely defensive, rendering his _Full Counter_ useless; but even when she does try her own offensive strike, he simply uses his strength to stop her. The fight is too entertaining to simply end it so quickly.

Yet as they fight, he wonders _why_ she does not try to end him once and for all. Estarossa also notes that she has not fallen to his Commandment, which means she has no anger in her heart. His eyes narrow as she spins, swinging the spear towards his left side, which he had foolishly left open as he was thinking. The tip of the spear slices through him, and Estarossa stumbles. There is a kick to his knee, and then his shoulder, and a moment later he is sprawled on his back, the goddess on top of him.

Her knees dig into his thighs as she braces one forearm on his chest. The dagger that had been strapped to her leg is now at his throat. "Don't move," she bites out at him. "Keep your arms out to the sides."

Estarossa smiles as he obeys, but cannot help but wonder about this unusual goddess. "Who are you?" he asks.

"You don't get to ask questions," she answers. "Where are the other demons?"

He starts to laugh, but allows it to die in his throat as she presses the blade into his skin. "You get to ask questions, but I don't?"

"Last I checked," responds the goddess haughtily, "you were the one with a knife at your throat."

An eyebrow shoots up in amusement. "My brothers will be following us. They are probably right behind you this very moment."

He is a bit impressed that she does not even flinch. "Why were you killing that dragon?" she asks.

The question catches him by surprise. "We were hungry," he answers simply.

"You are disgusting." The goddess leans forward, and Estarossa is forced to tilt his head back to avoid being sliced. "That creature deserves life just like any other. You had no right to kill it."

"Deserves life, hm?" Estarossa replies. "Last I checked, you were the one with a knife at my throat."

Her eyes narrow at the insult, but before she can retort a female voice calls, "Elizabeth! Elizabeth, where are you?"

"Elizabeth?" Estarossa asks, grinning. "Is that your name?"

"Shut up," she mutters again. They stare at each other for a moment, her scowl deepening as his smile grows wider, but then there is a movement that catches both of their attentions. Estarossa does not bother to look, but Elizabeth does, and that is her mistake.

"Elizabeth!" He watches as the goddess on top of him opens her mouth to give a command, probably to tell the one running towards them to be quiet. Yet before she can say anything he summons his power. A ball of deadly energy flashes in his palm, and he watches as the recognition registers in her eyes the very moment he sends the spell flying.

"No!" she screams, pressing the knife into his neck. But Estarossa was prepared for that, and jerks to the side. With the goddess now distracted, it is easy to flip her over onto her back. He uses the same technique she did, bracing his shins on her thighs, both of his hands now pinning her upper arms to the ground.

The goddess does not struggle, however, but simply stares to the side in horror. Estarossa glances over, pleased to see the smoldering corpse of another goddess several yards away. His own _Hellblaze_ had struck true, as he had assumed it would.

"Elizabeth," he says, drawing her attention back to him. Her eyes shine as they meet his. "I believe you'll be answering questions now."

If looks could kill, Estarossa is sure he would be dead from the one the goddess shoots at him. "I'll die before I—"

"You're going to die today anyway," he responds pleasantly. "Now, I was such a good captive for you. Won't you do me the same courtesy?"

Her face hardens and she turns it away, refusing to look at him. Estarossa stares down at the white skin of her neck, watching her pulse thrum just beneath the surface. Her skin is smooth, and creamy, and looks absolutely delicious. Her hair is now tumbling out of place, and locks of it fan over her neck and shoulders. He can picture it stained with blood, the delicate bones that make up the enchanting features of her pretty face crushed. His eyes go lower, trailing over her lips, her shoulders, the rise and fall of her chest.

Desire for her surges suddenly and unexpectedly, and at once Estarossa wants a piece of this mesmerizing goddess. He releases one of her arms and reaches up, plucking a snow white feather from her wing.

Elizabeth lets go a scream, a mixture of pain and disgust, and her free hand goes flying. She strikes him across the jaw, all at once thrashing underneath him. She fights and claws, trying to shake loose of the grip he now has on both of her wrists, her hips bucking up against his, her thighs straining as she tries to unbalance his weight crushing on top of her.

"Let me go! Let me _go_!" she screams, fighting him wildly.

Estarossa laughs; but then, he senses Meliodas' presence closing in behind him. He was nowhere near ready to kill this goddess, wanting to enjoy pulling information from her smart mouth. But with his older brother approaching, he knows his time was limited. "Now you're in trouble," he hisses at her viciously, and Elizabeth jerks in his hold as he tightens his grip on her.

.o0o.

The two demon brothers, drawn by the explosion of what could only be Estarossa's _Hellblaze_ , land silently in the forest. Meliodas gives his brother a signal, and they separate, working in an arc to find the goddesses that are surely nearby.

It doesn't take long for him to hear the frantic breathing of a creature running towards him. Meliodas steps around a tree, waiting, drawing his power into himself; when the moment is right, he steps out, snatching up the girl with one hand. She is on her knees with arms pinned behind her in an instant, and the demon barks, "How many more?"

"Like I would tell you, you—"

Meliodas snaps her neck easily, sighing and looking around. His blood is pumping from the chase, and he feels some satisfaction from this clean kill. The dragon had not been as satisfying as he had hoped, having been interrupted in his work; but he Meliodas cannot help but feel a bit of excitement at the sight of the dead goddess on the ground. He feels around, certain that at least three more are nearby; but he isn't sure quite yet if any of them are occupied by one of his brothers.

Zeldris appears suddenly on his right, and pulls up when he sees the body at his feet. "Are there more?" he asks.

"Use your damn head," he snaps. "How many flew off at the cave?"

"Four," he answers immediately.

Meliodas begins walking again, heading towards where Estarossa had released his magic. "Estarossa must have at least killed one. I've killed one. So tell me, Zeldris, are there more?"

He does not answer, which is a sound choice. They break off together, and not a moment later he hears Zeldris shout, "I found one!"

Rolling his eyes, Meliodas leaves him to it. Even though Zeldris is still green, at least to _his_ standards, he is strong, and there is little doubt in his mind that his youngest brother can take care of a goddess or two on his own. He is more concerned now with Estarossa having failed to emerge. Is it possible that a goddess managed to avoid his attack, even take him down?

The thought urges him on, and Meliodas races through the trees. Finally he picks up the sound of a struggle, and then a piercing scream brings a smile to his face. He slows his pace as he approaches the spot where his brother has a goddess pinned to the ground. It looks as if she is a wild animal, the way she fights him, and then Meliodas can see why, as Estarossa slips a white feather into his pocket.

Meliodas smirks to himself. Estarossa was always an unusual one. "Have you caught something, brother?" he calls.

"This is the leader," answers Estarossa. He looks up and sees the blonde watching him pin the struggling goddess with a hint of amusement.

"We've killed the others," he says. "Well, most of them anyway. Zeldris is tracking the last."

"No!" the girl screams. "No, you're lying!"

Estarossa huffs in annoyance. "This one is trouble."

Laughing, Meliodas comes closer. "Yes, I can see that." He moves to stand next to them, and then he crouches down. The goddesses flinches away from him, surely sensing the vast power and malicious intent that is now pouring from the demon, his energy stirred by his recent killing. "Now," he says slowly, "I will instruct my brother to let you up, but you must behave. Do you understand?"

"I'm not letting her go," Estarossa growls. "I went through too much trouble to catch her."

Meliodas gives him a dark look for daring to question him, but before he can chastise him properly the goddess says, "If you know what's good for you, don't let me up."

He throws his head back and laughs. "Perfect! The last goddess I killed was a disappointment. Come on, let's see what you can do." The demon stands and removes his coat, now bare chested except for the sheath still strapped against his body. "Let her go, Estarossa."

"Meliodas," his brother says in a warning tone, sitting back. He releases her arms but remains sitting on her legs, but it is enough; in an instant, the goddess lands a vicious punch across his face, sending the demon toppling. As he crashes to the ground, she scrambles up, running to grab her spear from the ground and wheeling around on them. "Stay back!" she shouts.

Meliodas smiles, his expression genuine. "Do you have a name, goddess? I'd like to remember it after I kill you."

She only glares at him, but Estarossa offers, "It's Elizabeth."

His eyes flicker to his brother, now sitting on the ground and rubbing his jaw. "Elizabeth? That's easy enough." Meliodas folds his arms, his head tilting for a moment as he regards her. She was certainly pretty enough, and his eyes roam her body appreciatively. He licks his lips as his gaze drags slowly up her body, and is delighted to see a blush forming on her face, despite the venomous expression.

He feels the familiar burn of his demon mark, the heat sliding across his face as he prepares to fight. But there is something else too, something about this goddess that is exciting him more than anything has in a very, very long time. "I'll make you a deal, Elizabeth," he says.

"Don't you dare say my name," she snaps at him.

"If you land a hit before I kill you, I'll let you go." He is pleasantly surprised when her expression remains even, and he tilts his head forward, his brows raising slightly. "Deal?"

The goddess huffs. "As if I could trust a demon to keep his word."

Meliodas shrugs. "Then you'll have to die." She sucks in a breath, and the demon makes his move. His sword is out in a flash, and he swings downward, trying to slice her in half. The goddess, however, avoids the blow. She springs backwards, her wings spreading, and she takes off, crashing through the trees.

He heaves a sigh, but is not entirely displeased. "Go find Zeldris," he says, walking over to pick up his coat. "Make sure he found the rest, and that they are taken care of. I'll meet you back at the dragon's cave."

Estarossa stands with a growl. "She was my catch first, _I_ should be the one—"

The taller demon is cut off as the giant blade of Meliodas' sword is suddenly a hair's breadth from his throat. He looks at his brother coldly, who regards him just as menacingly. Meliodas looks at him over the shoulder of his outstretched arm, keeping the weapon steadily trained at his neck. "She's my catch now. Don't make me repeat myself."

There is a split second where the air crackles with violence, and the two brothers wait for the other to strike first. But then Estarossa steps back, turning and disappearing into the forest.

Meliodas replaces his coat and resumes his hunt. He speeds along the ground, following her with little trouble, although she is much faster than she looks. The demon is actually a bit out of breath before he finally begins to close the gap between them, and he knows she must be tired from the chase if she is slowing down, if _he_ is actually feeling the effects. All of this is terribly exciting, so when he spots a flash of white in the corner of his vision, he throws himself towards it.

He crashes through the trees, grabbing the goddess. She screams as they fall, and he gets a face full of feathers as her wings go out instinctively; however, he turns and takes the worst of the impact when they hit the ground, grunting as the wind is knocked out of him. His hold on her loosens enough that she is able to break out of his arms, but Meliodas manages to lock his grip on her ankle, pulling her back down as she tries to run.

The goddess kicks at him viciously, and when he does not let go she rears up, bringing her forearm around to strike him. Meliodas ducks and avoids her, using her momentum to hit her in the chest with his shoulder. But he pulls back on the hit, not wanting to break anything just yet, and regrets it a moment later when Elizabeth grabs his hair and yanks hard.

"Hey!" he shouts in surprise and pain, letting go of her ankle to grab at her wrists. She is halfway underneath him now, and to his shock he hears her _laughing_. It feels as though his hair will come right out of their roots, and the pain is so unexpected he focuses on that instead of on the fight. He reaches up to smack her hands away, forgetting about her legs.

The goddess kicks him soundly in the stomach, pushing with all her strength; at the same time, she tightens her hold on his hair and yanks him up and back. Meliodas is actually dizzy when he flips right over her, slamming onto his back.

The goddess scrambles on top of him and backhands him across the face. He blinks in surprise as he gets his bearings and looks up. She is looking back down at him with an aggravatingly satisfied smirk, and then hops up to stand. "I told you not to let me up," she says, and then kicks the side of his head.

Meliodas gives a shout of anger, a metallic taste filling his mouth. He reaches angrily for the goddess, but snatches nothing but air. "Get back here!" he shouts, anger bubbling up at how pathetic he sounds, how ridiculous it is that a _goddess_ managed to hurt him.

"You said one hit and you'd let me go!" Her voice surprises him again, and quickly he scrambles to his feet. But she is long gone, and now that he is alone he winces as he touches his split lip.

"Elizabeth," he laughs to himself, the anger inside him melting away. "I'll remember that." Then he turns and stalks away, heading back to the dragon cave to meet his brothers.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you SO much for the feedback! I've decided to continue (obviously)... I guess we'll all see where this goes.

* * *

The palace of the demon king is a combination of a castle and military base. The massive compound resides in sight of the mountains that mark the border to the demon realm, surrounded by blackened and harsh terrain unsuitable for any beings outside of the demon clan. It serves not only as the home of the king, but also the base of operations for his army. It is also the place where justice is delivered to anyone who dares to defy his power.

His three sons also reside there when they are not fulfilling his orders. Each has his own space within the palace, their own private chambers for personal use, and it is there that Zeldris finds Estarossa. His older brother stands in what serves as his sitting room, pouring himself a glass of dark liquid. Unlike Zeldris, whose own wing showcases his preference for function over form, Estarossa enjoys a bit of luxury in his personal space. The room is filled with comfortable furniture, stained glass on the windows, and a cabinet fully stocked with wine and alcohol from every corner of Britannia.

The demon does not acknowledge Zeldris when he enters, his concentration instead on the glass decanter in his hand; he watches as Estarossa carefully pours the liquid into a glass, pausing for just a moment as he examines it. He remains silent as his brother takes a long drink; when he goes to refill the glass, the demon says in exasperation, "Did you want something? Or you just sent for me to watch you drink?"

Estarossa chuckles as he takes another sip. "Don't be like that, Zeldris. Would you like one?" His younger brother responds with an unamused look, causing Estarossa to laugh again. "Yes, yes, I know you have an aversion to having fun. I shouldn't have asked."

He walks to a stuffed leather couch and sits, leaning back into the fabric as he takes another sip. "What do you want?" Zeldris demands again, his tone biting with his annoyance.

The older demon grins up at him. "I've been thinking about those goddesses we ran into the other day. One got away, and I think we owe them a bit of payback."

Zeldris' brows shoot up. "I'm listening."

"There is a report of a group of them not far from that forest." Estarossa holds up the glass to examine it for a moment, swirling the liquid around. "I'm wondering if she met up with some friends."

Nodding, Zeldris asks, "Has Meliodas given the order? Where has he been, anyway?"

"I'm not waiting on _him_ ," Estarossa snaps, and then drains his glass. The younger demon frowns as he says, "The two of us will go out and find these goddesses ourselves. I want to teach that silver-haired one what happens when you attack the son of the demon king."

Zelris watches as he returns to the cabinet, carefully looking through the collection of bottles before choosing one. The lack of discipline from his older brother is annoying, at the least. He feels nothing but irritation as Estarossa refills, and says, "Do you think it's wise for us to leave on a mission without approval?"

The demon shrugs and resumes his place on the couch. "This isn't a mission."

"Didn't you tell me that everything is?" Zeldris crosses his arms. "Besides, he's your captain, not mine. You'll be the one who has to feel his wrath."

Estarossa huffs. "I'm not afraid of a little Meliodas."

Zeldris just shakes his head, knowing better. "And the king? You don't think hunting a pack of goddesses needs his approval either?"

"Those goddesses almost killed his son," the demon says, slurring just a little bit. He raises a finger and points it at Zeldris. "That Elizabeth wanted to kill _me_. I had her, she was _mine_ , _my_ catch. And he just let her go like it was nothing." Estarossa finishes his drink again and then looks at his brother pointedly, one hand slipping into the pocket of his coat. "The king should be thanking us for taking care of such a threat. If you give those goddesses even an inch, who's to say they won't stroll right up to the gates and come after us?"

The younger snorts, causing his brother to look over sharply. "Yes, I understand. We do live under constant threat of a goddess invasion." Estarossa gives him a venomous glare, but Zeldris continues, "Tell me, brother, do you _really_ want to pay back this goddess for trying to kill us? Or do you just want another chance with her, without Meliodas around to steal her from you again?"

Estarossa suddenly launches himself forward, forcing Zeldris to jump back with arms raised to defend himself. He throws a punch that barely misses Estarossa, and the demon stumbles with a semi-inebriated tilt. Zeldris moves in a flash, appearing behind him, and grabbing him around the neck. His throws his weight to the side, and they both begin to fall; but as Zeldris twists to plant his feet on the ground, Estarossa reacts with an elbow to his chest.

Zeldris loses his grip on his brother. Then Estarossa is behind him, sweeping his leg with a foot and sending him to his knee. The older demon grabs him by the arm and knocks him forward, holding him pinned on his knees with one arm pressed back between his shoulder blades. His jaw clenches as he looks back over his shoulder, glaring at Estarossa angrily. The two stare at each other for a moment, and then Estarossa begins laughing. He releases his grip on Zeldris and steps back as the younger brother scrambles to his feet. "I suppose it _could_ be a bit of both," Estarossa laughs.

"Do that again and I'll kill you," Zeldris threatens, but Estarossa waves him off. "You should really have one of these," he says, picking up the glass now laying on the floor.

He watches his brother with disgust as he returns to the cabinet. At this rate, he's going to be absolutely useless soon. It offends Zeldris' serious sensibilities to allow himself to not have absolute control at all times. And now the thought of tracking down those goddesses and bringing them before the king for judgment is appealing to his ruthless demeanor… but it will all be pointless if Estarossa is useless to him. "Where do we need to go?" he asks in an attempt to distract him.

"So eager?" Estarossa teases; but to Zeldris' satisfaction, he closes the cabinet. "Let me make this clear: any goddesses we find, I get first shot at—understand?"

Zeldris grins and nods, pleased to see the viciousness returning to his brother's eyes. "Besides," Estarossa says as he follows his older brother from the room, "you don't need a goddess, if the rumors are true."

"What are you talking about?" he snaps as they walk outside.

Estarossa looks down at him through a sideways glance. "Let's just say a little bird from Edinburgh told me."

Heat flashes through Zeldris, a mixture of embarrassment and rage, but Estarossa is already gone, his wings taking him into the sky. Zeldris growls in fury, but has no choice but to allow his own power to flare out so that he can catch up, following the gales of laughter.

.o0o.

For days, Meliodas hunts. Had he known the idea of letting one goddess slip away would prove so vexing, he would have given chase immediately; but at the time, he thought little about the silver-haired creature that had managed to escape his judgment. It had been very entertaining, to say the least, to chase her through the forest; besides, he had reasoned as he returned to the dragon carcass, he had to respect the fact that she managed to live. After all, he had promised that he'd let her go if she hit him. Meliodas was nothing if not a man of his word.

But the more he had thought about it, the more intrigued he became, and the more intrigued, the more it infuriated him. Who _is_ she? Why is she not more afraid of him? She hadn't seemed foolish… but no one could be so confident, not when facing him. And _then_ the fact that she had escaped, and the way she had done it. It angers him how easily she had knocked him off balance—in such a simple way, too. Now he can not let this mystery go.

Days later, when he had finally given in and returned to the forest, he had told himself it wasn't his pride that had pushed him to find her, but rather just a simple curiosity.

Meliodas had thought that following her trail would be easy, but once again, he was proven wrong when it came to the goddess. Whether from a conscious effort or whether because she has some innate skill or magic, he is still not sure, but her trail had vanished not far from where they had struggled. It had taken all of his own skills to find even a trace of her, and Meliodas had relied heavily on his instincts to track the goddess through the woods.

It is difficult, meticulous work, but Meliodas does not accept defeat. Now it is nearly two days since he had returned to the woods, and finally he is rewarded with the sound of people moving through the trees.

Silently he moves. Within minutes he can tell these are not the goddesses he's seeking, but something tells him that he should follow. Meliodas trails them easily, and is both intrigued and annoyed to discover it is a pack of fairies. Even though the forest is their home, they are not difficult to pursue, and he cannot help but wonder where they are leading him.

They head deeper and deeper into the forest. After a few hours' time, Meliodas is feeling no fatigue; but the fairies are clearly winded, and stop to rest. The demon moves closer to hear their talk; one is giving orders, but the others slip into conversation. Finally, he hears what he is waiting for: they are moving to meet with the goddesses.

His pulse quickens with the news; two days of searching have led him here, and he is poised to strike, his patience suddenly gone. But still he waits, listening for more information, using all of his strength to keep himself from tearing through the creatures. He is disappointed not to learn more, so when they move to leave, he falls upon them. The frustration over his failure and this chase and that _goddess_ come through as absolute savagery, and when all but one are dead, his nerves are settled.

The remaining fairy was forthcoming with what he wanted to know; it seems as though _Elizabeth_ is name that is easily recognized. A new excitement crackles under his skin as he moves, heading in the direction of their meeting place, following the now-deceased fairy's assurance that even if she is not there, others who know her will be. His hands are practically itching to grab a hold of her, his heart thudding at the idea of fighting her again. It would prove to be fruitless in the end, of course—for _her_ anyway.

The thrill of seeing her lights a fever inside of him, and now he is moving steadily, quickly, towards the meeting place. He remains cautious and alert, no signs of fatigue showing despite the two days without rest. Periodic scans of the area do not reveal any nearby threats, and soon Meliodas begins to wonder if the fairy had been lying about the meeting place when he cannot feel the presence of any goddesses.

Then, a few miles out, a flash of power causes him to stop in his tracks. _Elizabeth_ , he thinks, his eyes narrowing. A smile crawls across his face.

He slows his pace, wanting to simply enjoy now. This goddess has been the most interesting thing he has had the pleasure of hunting, and he would be damned if he was going to rush things now. With an unwavering focus he continues on, keeping his mind focused, his powers in check, so he can avoid discovery.

There are others around, and he must be cautious. More goddesses arrive, until there are a dozen in the area, but Meliodas easily avoids detection. All of his senses are on fire now as he closes in on his target: the sound of her breathing, the scent of her body, the occasional flash of white feathers. He can practically taste her screams, can feel the warmth of the blood he will spill. The demon smiles to himself as he imagines the look in her eyes when she realizes she will die.

His own breathing is ragged as the need for her reaches its peak. His vision is practically dimmed red as he makes his move.

But suddenly Elizabeth pauses, and it is enough to make him falter. He steps out of the trees into her line of vision, and her hesitation has put her a few steps from where he had expected. Meliodas immediately draws up, his shoulders squared, every muscle in his body tense, as Elizabeth whirls around to face him, her hair flying behind her. The two stare at each other, the goddess' face wide with shock. Time stops as their eyes remain locked on one another.

"It's you," she finally breathes, and the way her voice shakes snaps him from his dazed state.

As Meliodas reaches to his back to pull his sword, the goddess pulls her own from her hip. The corner of the demon's mouth twitches a bit at her speed and the determined look on her face as she immediately assumes a fighting stance. "It is," he remarks. "I've been looking for you."

The goddess does not answer immediately, their stare-off continuing for a long moment. "What do you want?" she finally asks.

The question gives Meliodas pause. What _is_ he doing here, exactly? What is he hoping to accomplish by hunting her down, following her trail for two days? He had thought he would kill her, certainly; but now, laying his eyes on her again, the demon is suddenly unsure. "You tried to kill me, you know," he decides to answer.

There is no answer from the girl, and the demon uses the opportunity to look her over. The white wings are pulled back tightly behind her, offset by the dark uniform shirt and pants. There are thin metal plates on her shoulders and shins, and her hands are covered with long leather gloves. The silver hair that had been so eye-catching the last time is pulled back and up, leaving Meliodas with the urge to yank it from its twist on her head.

Elizabeth breathes rapidly, blinking at him through the bangs that sweep across her eyes. "You won't find it so easy to kill me," she says, her chin tilting down as her eyes go cold.

Meliodas smirks, and then strikes. He is impressed as Elizabeth jerks back, the blow meant for her neck whizzing by in a blur as she avoids his blade. From the corner of his eye, he sees her arm sweeping around, and ducks in time, feeling his hair ruffle as her own weapon narrowly misses the top of his head. The demon spins and opens his hand, sending a flash of dark magic at her. But again the goddess avoids his attack, dropping to the forest floor and rolling out of its path. She is up in a fighting crouch in an instant, and when Meliodas faces her, he is amused and amazed to find her _smiling_.

Amused, amazed… and annoyed as well. "Do you know who I am?" he snaps at her, his hand flexing around the hilt of his sword.

"Should I?" she retorts, her shoulders adjusting back as she raises her chin defiantly.

The irritation at her brazenness scratches at him, threatening to burst. "I did not come here to spar," he snaps out heatedly.

"Then what did you come here for?" she hollars back at him. Again he is taken by surprise as she rises to stand full height, bringing the blade of her sword across her body. "You demons know nothing but killing. Nothing but _death_." He cannot look away as her eyes burn with blue flame. "You will find nothing to kill here. So I suggest for your _own_ sake, you leave. Now."

Her mouth pops open as laughter erupts from him. The demon moves to the side and Elizabeth is immediately countering, her body tightening as she slips into a defensive mode. "You really don't know who I am, do you?" chuckles Meliodas, his voice threatening. "No one is _this_ brave."

Elizabeth gives a surprising growl and charges towards him. Meliodas sidesteps easily, but the goddess lunges to the side. He avoids her fist, but she lands a blow from the sword against his shoulder. He jumps into the air as she swipes again, aiming for his midsection, and the prince brings his own weapon down, trying to disarm her. The goddess proves herself adept at defense, however, and manages to deflect his attack, but just barely.

He lands and sprints towards her again. Elizabeth is moving as well, and there is a series of exchanges as they fight, their speed and their strength creating an incredible display. Slash. Block. Shove away. Spin. Don't let her stop. Don't let her see an opening. Don't let her win.

Meliodas is holding back, as deep down, he is intrigued by the goddess the longer she holds him off. But it is obvious within minutes that his power is greater than hers, and that is _without_ sending another magic attack. Elizabeth must sense the inevitable loss as well, because as she backs off from the combat, she says, "Will you let me go if I land a hit?"

He chuckles, a bit out of breath. He is pleased to see the line of sweat beading her forehead, the way her chest rises and falls with some effort. This spirit of hers, even now as she faces her defeat, is captivating. Meliodas decides then that he will not kill this goddess; but that then opens the question: what will he do with her? What was all of this _for_?

Then her wings flutter out in a flash of white, and Meliodas leaps forward, throwing away his sword as he grabs her in his arms. There was _no_ way he was letting her run, again. They crash to the ground, the demon twisting his body to take most of the force of the impact. Elizabeth gives a shout as the wind is knocked out of her; then Meliodas has her pinned to the ground, his arms and legs caging her in as her hands fly up to push against his chest.

But Meliodas summons his strength, and does not allow her to move him. All at once the goddess stops struggling, and he leans forward, his narrowed eyes locking onto her widening ones.

.o0o.

Estarossa stands, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his hands. He stares down at the goddess at his feet. Her hair is darker than Elizabeth's, almost brown, her body thinner. He recalls the toned limbs and seductive curves of the girl he is hunting, smiling to himself. The demon hopes she gives a struggle again this time; this one fell much too easily. Without realizing it, his hand moves into his pocket, his fingers brushing along the soft item inside, his mind going unfocused for a moment with the sensation. Then he shakes himself and continues.

Leaving the unmoving body where it lays, he continues his stroll through the woods. The place is crawling with a dozen goddess—fewer than that now—and Zeldris had run off, eager to take out one of his own. The intelligence they had received regarding the enemy's movements had proven incredibly useful, and it seems as though the brothers had arrived in time to halt whatever activity the goddesses had planned.

A high pitched scream fills the area, and Estarossa rolls his eyes. Doesn't Zeldris know to cut the throat first? With a heaving sigh he continues on. The others will know they are there now, but it doesn't matter. In fact, the fear may make them careless, and therefore even easier to catch. One of them _has_ to know something about Elizabeth's whereabouts.

A minute later Zeldris appears, falling in step next to him. "I dealt with two at once," he says, his voice quiet and tight with effort. Estarossa glances at him sideways and sees his hand clenching around the hilt of his sword, his chest expanding as he tries to maintain even breathing.

"Sheathe your sword," is all he responds, and Zeldris does immediately. They continue on at a steady pace when the energy from another can be felt moving quickly in their direction. Without a word both move to the side, and in seconds the goddess appears, running in panic. Her appearance, he notes, is completely disheveled, and he can see stains of blood on her hands. Estarossa smirks to himself, imagining the girl's face when she came upon her dead companion that he had left behind.

He decides to stand back and let Zeldris take this one. The hysteria rolling off of the girl is proof enough for him that she is no one important, and so probably has no information. The demon leans back against the trunk of a tree to watch his brother jump out from the shadows, catching the girl by the waist and knocking them both to the ground.

Zeldris is on top of her in an instant, his blade pressed against the side of her face. "Don't move, don't speak," he snaps at the girl. Her mouth hangs open in shock and horror, her fearful eyes wide and flowing tears down her face. Her hands are pressed against Zeldris' chest, and Estarossa tilts his head a bit to see how badly she is shaking.

"Please," the goddess whispers, "please don't kill me."

"I just told you not to speak!" Zeldris practically spits at her.

Estarossa cannot stop the laugh that escapes him as the girl chokes back a sob. "If she can't speak," he calls over, "exactly how do you plan to get information from her?"

Zeldris hesitates, and then mutters, "Shut up." Estarossa snorts, watching as Zeldris adjusts his hold on the goddess. She is practically hyperventilating now, and begins to struggle when his grip loosens on her. Her hands go flying, delivering a punch on his shoulder before he swats her hands away; her body lurches as she tries to toss him off of her. The demon mutters a curse and presses the edge of his sword into her flesh. Then the goddess screams, beginning to really fight now, trying to kick and thrash under him.

"Sometime this evening, perhaps?" Estarossa taunts. Zeldris curses again and modifies the angle of the sword; however, in her panic the goddess manages to cause herself more damage, and blood is soon running from her neck and over the metal. He makes a disgusted sound as she screams, the wound opening even more with her struggle. "You're losing control of her, Zeldris," he warns, and the younger demon digs a knee into her hip in an effort to keep her still.

"Stop!" Zeldris orders, but the girl continues her flailing, sobbing loudly as the demon struggles to maintain his hold on her. "Stop fighting me!"

"Zeldris…" Estarossa croons in a warning voice, and his brother bites back, "I have this!"

But a moment later, it's clear the girl will be dead before he gets a word from her, so Estarossa heaves a sigh as he walks over. Zeldris' eyes dart up at him in a threat. "I said I have this!"

"Right," he answers, and then stomps a foot on the goddess' chest. His brother yelps in surprise and jerks backwards to avoid being kicked, but Estarossa accomplishes his goal: the goddess stops her thrashing. She now lays unmoving, her spine now snapped, her breathing ragged as her chest rises and falls painfully. "There," he says, walking back to resume his place against the tree. "Now you can ask her."

Glowering, Zeldris shoots him a look before his eyes return to the broken goddess. "Do you know where we will find a goddess named Elizabeth?" he asks harshly.

The girl begins to shake, her eyes going dull, and he says again, "Where is Elizabeth? Is she on this mission with you?"

When she fails to answer again, Zeldris grips her by the chin and pulls her face up to meet his. "Answer me," he growls at her.

The goddess gasps in pain and fear; her eyes go wide as they focus on his words, and then she nods. Estarossa pushes off from the tree and quickly walks over towards them, crouching on the ground so he can speak directly to the girl. "Elizabeth is here?" he asks. "Here, right now?"

"I'm asking the questions," Zeldris complains, but the demon ignores him and takes the girl by the throat. "Did you say Elizabeth was here?" Estarossa demands.

She chokes, and then her body goes rigid. The demon realizes his grip was too tight, and that he has snapped her neck. Annoyed now, he drops her and stands, turning to scan the area around them.

Zeldris climbs to his feet, pausing to wipe his sword clean on the grass. "I _had_ her," he says angrily. "I would have gotten answer from her. You had no right—"

"Quiet," Estarossa snaps. He can sense the fury coming from his brother, but he can't worry about that now. If Elizabeth really is a part of this group, then they may have made a huge mistake in being so careless and causing a ruckus. "We need to go."

"Good idea," Zeldris answers. "Let's come back with a full squad. Then we can—"

"We aren't leaving," Estarossa bites out, and then quickly darts forward. Zeldris gives a shout for him to stop, and a moment later catches up to him, trying to jump in front. "It's going to take us forever to look through this entire place!" he says, exasperated. Estarossa does not answer, so the younger demon reaches out and pushes on his arm. "Let's just leave it for now!"

But Estarossa continues on, and a stream of curses follow him from his brother. "Fine! Stay on this idiotic hunt of yours!" he calls out after him. He ignores him, stalking away, and finally hears, "You're a fool, Estarossa!"

Fool or no, Estarossa is not about to stop. If Elizabeth is here, she may already know they are too; this could be the last opportunity he has to find her. The memory of her underneath him, her flashing eyes and her defiant smile, followed by the shaking horror as she watched her friend die, had been preying on his mind just as much as the sight of his brother's burning hand, and the spear that nearly split his head in two. The fact that those goddesses had _dared_ to strike at them, at the _sons_ of the demon king himself, is infuriating; that Elizabeth did not have the decency of at least being afraid of him is maddening.

The goddesses had been fun to stalk, even more entertaining to kill, but never had he felt so driven by one before. He moves quickly, drawing on all of his power to scan in all directions. If she is still here, he will find her. Once more Estarossa shoves his hand in his pocket, grasping the feather inside and holding it tightly, massaging it against his palm as he attempts to remain focused on finding her and collecting his prize.

His eagerness is now his enemy. Zeldris had botched his own killing with a combination of impatience and inexperience; but Estarossa is no novice. He stifles the instinct to destroy as he moves, now glad that his brother has left, so he can maneuver as he pleases. His progress is silent, and focused; and before long, his restraint pays off, when he senses something unusual nearby.

Slowly, wordlessly, he makes his way towards it. It _must_ be her, and he feels more sure with every passing moment.

His focus on the energy that belongs to Elizabeth is so narrow that he fails to recognize the other until it is too late. The sound of a struggle alerts him to her location, drawing him to her, and he is quick to wrap himself in shadow as he steps into the small clearing. But then he freezes when he sees her, and sees that _again_ , his brother has taken possession of his prey.

She is pinned, her back against a tree, and Meliodas has a crushing grip on her wrists, pressed above her head. Her face is twisted, and her mouth hangs open, much like the goddess that Zeldris had killed. Elizabeth cries out, and then does it again; and once more it is the sound escaping her that draws his attention. Her voice is high and tight, nearly a squeal, and he feels a shiver of pleasure roll up his spine.

At first he thinks Meliodas must be using a dagger or knife of some kind, because his sword has been carelessly tossed to the side. If that is not strange enough, Elizabeth's own weapons are also laying in the grass; not broken, but simply discarded. Had they been fighting without them? Is that why she is pinned like this? Another cry comes from the goddess, and she squirms helplessly against the tree. Meliodas' face is hidden, buried against her shoulder; then Estarossa notices his other hand moves shamelessly under her shirt.

He frowns for a moment, confused. This isn't like Meliodas—at least, not like he had ever seen before. There were many demons who enjoyed more than just killing goddesses, but his older brother had never shown such an inclination. He huffs to himself, wondering again what is going on here.

Estarossa sees then the way her body is arching against his, the way her leg is curled around his hip. The way she bows against him, not away. Their faces turn towards one another, and in an instant their mouths are sealed in a kiss; but Elizabeth does not fight, or jerk away, or struggle in protest. Instead, she is kissing him back, the atmosphere between them growing fiery. Her cries are not of pain, but of pleasure.

He watches in disbelief as Meliodas breaks the kiss; then he releases her hands and drops to his knees. Within seconds the tight uniform pants are pulled from her body, and then Meliodas pulls one of her legs over his shoulder as he eagerly presses his mouth between them. Even more unbelieving, Elizabeth does not fight; she arches her back, one hand snaking down to grab the blonde head pleasuring her, gripping the hair tightly to pull him closer.

The shock of seeing Meliodas giving pleasure, of Elizabeth taking it, keeps Estarossa stunned. His mind cycles through possible reasonings, not wanting to accept what he is witnessing. But the images of what _he_ had been imagining for days rise to the forefront as he continues to watch. Her head falls back, exposing her neck, the cords straining exactly where he wants to wrap his hands and squeeze. Elizabeth heaves with a shuddering breath, exactly the way he had imagined she would as he twisted her body. Her skin is flushed a brilliant color, not stained with blood; her body is wracked with shivers of pleasure, not fear.

Then Meliodas stands and grabs the goddess, throwing her to the ground. Estarossa is momentarily relieved, believing this insanity has passed. Elizabeth pulls herself up on her hands and knees, her fingers digging into the grass as she groans, and Meliodas moves behind her, gripping her arms and yanking her back.

But once again, his mouth is seeking hers, and the goddess leans back against the demon to share a kiss. Estarossa's stomach turns as he watches his brother's hands grab her hips. There is a quick flurry of movement before they settle on her thighs and pull them apart; then she gives a strangled scream as Meliodas gives an unmistakable thrust of his hips. He moves hard and fast behind her, and her cries become wails. It is the sound _Estarossa_ wanted to hear her make, but for an entirely different reason.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Here I am, finally back with another chapter. I just want to say thank you SO MUCH to those of you who have written reviews or sent me messages about this story. It's amazing to know that so many people have enjoyed this story. I honestly thought that no one would really be interested in reading about these three brothers.

Having said that, I do apologize for the delay, and apologize in advance if it takes a bit of time for the next chapter. This was _supposed_ to be a one-shot, so I am writing as the ideas come, and also as the manga makes its own revelations. So please bear with me. I'm also working on about four other projects as well, and I must go with where the muse takes me.

I do hate overly long author notes so for now I will say, thank you again, and please enjoy.

* * *

A hunter must be calm and focused to be successful. Training and discipline can only get one so far; a patient mind, a steady hand, a determined spirit are all essential and cannot be taught. Respect for the prey is also essential. Never underestimate how resourceful something or someone else can be.

Meliodas is now none of those things.

His fascination with the goddess Elizabeth begins to teeter into obsession the more he seeks her out, and he is now hunting her every day—at least, what he calls hunting.

The truth is, he is drawn to her in a way he cannot explain and dares not even consider. He is trapped by her voice and her shape and the color of her eyes, wrapped up in her arms and hair and thighs, buried beneath the blazing spirit and teasing smiles and the sound that she makes as he slides his body inside of hers. Meliodas tells himself he is hunting the goddess, that he is getting closer to her in order to learn her secrets and exploit her clan. He wants to be rid of them all. He wants to raise the demons up to be the most powerful beings in Britannia. He wants…

 _Her_. Only Elizabeth.

It is a dangerous game, one that he does not realize he is playing until too late. The first encounter between them was like a possession, and the demon barely knew anything from the moment their lips met until much later, when the goddess was draped over him, naked and spent, her nails digging sharply into his neck. The pleasure and satisfaction of that moment was unlike anything he had ever known: her panting breaths on his skin, the slow squeezing of her body around him, he snow-white feathers that flared as he bit her lip.

It becomes harder and harder to keep his focus as the days go on, catching himself planning to find her, charting his route to seek her out. He is _hunting_ , he tells the others, as he leaves the Commandments in his charge to oversee the calculated movements of the war. Hunting for goddesses, hunting for intelligence, hunting for their allies—whatever it takes to be free of his responsibilities so he can move through the world and find his goddess.

Each time, he says it will be the last; that _this_ time, he will use his sword to run her through, delighting in the color of her blood as it stains the ground and the twisting cry as she realizes he has betrayed her. Meliodas is not cruel for the sake of cruelty; he enjoys inflicting his wrath when it is _deserved_. The fulfillment of seeing an enemy fall is only genuinely pleasurable when it comes from a place of truth. The king is the judge and jury, Meliodas is the executioner, and Elizabeth is guilty. Her crime is being born a goddess. Her sentence was decided the moment she took her first breath.

Each time, he goes to her to deliver the justice she deserves. But the moment he sees her, all sense flies away. The strongest demon in an age becomes the prey, the goddess Elizabeth the hunter; neither are even aware.

It is nearly dawn, the entire world poised on the verge of waking up, as Meliodas skims between the rolling hills of western Britannia. There is the stronghold of the humans, and the goddesses have gathered many forces to help strengthen their defenses. It is here he will find his Elizabeth, her being calling out to him over the miles to where his own army is camped. He has not seen her for nearly three days, delayed by the planning of a surprise attack, the army looking to their general to plot the strategy for advancement.

The need for her is like an itch he cannot reach, pulsing under his skin. It pulls tightly at his mind until he thinks his sanity will unravel. It is too much, he has also realized, and he needs to put an _end_ to this. For weeks she has drained his focus and time and resolve to do what he was made to do. Meliodas is denying his own nature, his own purpose, in order to hunt for Elizabeth; no longer can he survive the conflict this causes inside of him. The demon smiles to himself as he thinks of this torture finally ending with his hands around the girl's neck.

The heat of his power burns its way to the surface, his eyes becoming deep and dangerous. Animals scatter at his approach, birds change course to avoid the demon that walks on the dewy grass in the sunrise. This will be the day he takes back his life from the goddess who has ensnared him.

Yet with each step, his intention falters, the excitement of seeing her and holding her creeping through his veins like a virus. Meliodas is so _angry_ that he cannot help himself around her, that of all the things in the universe to bring him to his knees and steal his resolve is a damn _goddess_. But there is nothing to be done to combat the way she has seeped into every pore, stolen his every thought, wrapped herself around him so completely that he is nearly choking with the want of her; when he finally senses her presence, his vicious smile has changed into one of relief, hurrying towards the light that draws him in even as his very nature rebels.

Then she is there, at the meeting place they had agreed upon, and in a flash he has her in his arms. He drags Elizabeth against him as they kiss, their meeting hot and furious and exquisite.

Her arms around him soothe his savagery so he can kiss her passionately. His hands are on her back, stroking her bare skin, the feathers that brush against his fingers making him shiver. Finally she pulls away, both panting to catch their breath, and she presses her forehead on his. "Meliodas," she whispers, her lips on his temple. "I thought something had happened to you! I was so scared—so worried—"

"Shhh," he breathes, one hand now sliding through her hair to pull it away from her face. "I told you before there was no need to be worried about me."

"But if someone were to find out—" she protests, but the demon cuts her off with a shake of his head. "They won't."

Elizabeth nods, her eyes roaming over him adoringly, and for some time afterwards they become lost in a passion that is electric and overwhelming. Once more he is caught in her snare of loveliness. Once more the demon general surrenders.

It is mid-morning, and the sun is hot and bright in the sky. Elizabeth leads him to a shimmering little lake in a valley several miles away, hidden by a cliff and surrounded by trees. With a grin he watches as she removes her clothes, hurrying to remove his own, and they wade out into the water, laughing and splashing as they wash away the evidence of their lovemaking. Meliodas treads the water a bit, dipping underneath to wet his head and clean away the perspiration. When he comes back up above the surface, Elizabeth is nearby, wringing out her own hair as she stands waist-deep in the water, her wings pulled in tightly against her back.

He swims slowly towards her, trying to surprise her, but the goddess is wise to his game. Before he can reach out and snatch her up she has dipped back down again, her hair neatly knotted to the top of her head, and she laughs as she splashes him in her effort to get away. It is such a simple moment, one that Meliodas had not known could even exist; yet here they are, playing with one another, and he sighs to himself at the sweet sound of her voice.

Elizabeth allows herself to be caught when he advances, and now that he has his prize his hands pull her close has his mouth nuzzles on her neck. There is a mark above her breast that he kisses gently, a reminder of the frenzied passion from earlier, but now it is quiet, and calm, and peaceful. Her hands stroke his wet hair, trying to do _something_ with the mess on top, and Meliodas contemplates her in silence as she clicks her tongue at the tangles.

"I didn't know goddesses could get their wings wet," he says as he kisses her damp skin.

Elizabeth laughs. "They are waterproof, you know. Otherwise I could never leave home when it rains."

He nips her skin, drawing another giggle. Meliodas looks up at the girl as her arms slide down to rest around his shoulders. She drops her head back, smiling up at the sun that paints light on her face, and he wonders how he could have ever thought of ending such a life. His eyes travel over her neck, reminded of how he had wished to wrap his hands around it and squeeze the breath from her; then lower, to her chest, where her heart pumps the blood he wanted to see soaking the ground. One of his palms slides from where it curls around her hip, up over her body, to rest over her chest and feel the beating of her heart.

"Meliodas?" she says softly. He lifts his eyes to meet hers gazing at him softly, and then looks back down at the hand pressed against her skin.

"We are moving west in twelve hours," he says quietly. "It will take two days."

Elizabeth nods, sighing as she turns her head away. "I know. There was a report that arrived last night. I thought… that might have been why you haven't come."

His hand on her back clenches a bit, pulling her closer. "Elizabeth, I can't… I can't stop them."

"I don't expect you to."

"I don't want to—to be—this—" Words are escaping him, just like his reason in the recent days and weeks, and he clings to her like a lifeline.

She tries to reassure him, pressing the side of her face against his, but Meliodas stops her. "When I return with them, I will kill all of you," he bites out harshly, his lips against her cheek. "I will _have_ to kill... _you_." The thought of it has him shaking, and what frightens him most is not the idea of Elizabeth's death, but the bloodlust that it stirs inside of him. It is his very nature to fight and destroy the goddesses, even the gentle beauty he holds now, and this nature is raging like a storm inside his chest.

Echoing his own thoughts, Elizabeth says softly, "Isn't that what you wanted, at first? To kill me?"

Anger flares inside him. Of course it is what he _wanted_ , it's what he _still_ wants in some corners of his mind. Once more he can imagine squeezing her until she breaks, dragging her by her hair from the lake to where his weapon lies on the shore and ending her there. They have whispered many secrets to one another, shared information on both sides. Meliodas knows the location of the goddesses, and it would be so easy to take her head to them, to laugh as he threw it into their midst before ending each of them himself. His position and power would be solidified in the demon realm, and the power he would gain from consuming their souls… the very idea thrills the blood coursing through him.

Why does she do this, why does she torture him so? She makes him doubt his purpose, question his very being. This is her plan, he is sure of it, and he prepares to strike.

Her cool lips press on his forehead, and at once he is stilled.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have said that." Elizabeth trails soft kisses along the side of his face as the demon focuses on breathing in and out. "I'm not frightened of death." Her whisper brushes over his cooling skin, and briefly he closes his eyes; the vision of her bloodied and unmoving body surfaces, and he immediately opens them again, the decision made.

"I'm staying with you," says Meliodas. Elizabeth's lips still, and she pulls back to look at him, her eyes wide. "I'm staying with you," he says again, firmer this time.

.o0o.

Love, Estarossa feels, is a rather useless emotion. Not a single good thing ever came out of it, as far as he can tell.

He travels the length of Britannia, hunting for dragons, hunting for goddesses, following orders, fighting, eating, killing. There is much to be done for a demon and a prince and a soldier in the king's command, and during it all he has come into contact with the wretched concept numerous times. He has seen the love of a mother for a son; the love of a husband for a wife; the love of a teacher for a student; even the love of a child for a dog. Agape, eros, philia, storge… so many types, so many ways, and they all lead to nothing in the end.

He is glad to be the Commandment of Love, because he enjoys to see when it dies. Estarossa likes eliminating useless things from the world. It makes him feel clean, feel whole. Excess as a rule is not generally appealing; although he savors luxury, he knows that too much is a bad thing. His love of liquor, for instance, rarely leads to anything good.

And yet, despite all this, despite the knowledge that Estarossa has built up over hundreds of years, he loves.

Sitting in his room at the demon king's stronghold, he contemplates love as he shakily refills a glass. It has been weeks since he had stumbled upon the person he loves most in the world committing treason. It is not against the laws of the demons to take their pleasure with a goddess; in fact, some of them keep goddesses for this sole purpose. But Meliodas had never indicated such an inclination—in fact, he had often professed his revulsion for the idea. Goddesses were meant to be killed. They represented the opposite of what the demons wanted for their clan and Britannia. Goddesses were for extermination.

It is clear to him that this is _not_ Meliodas, it is _not_ the brother that he loves. It cannot be an imposter—taking the captain of the Ten Commandments, killing or imprisoning him is a sheer impossibility—so there must be another plan.

Estarossa taps his finger on the glass as he thinks. He is pretending to betray them, trying to get closer to the goddesses in order to exploit them. Meliodas will use this goddess to get what he wants, to pull every ounce of information from her about the clan and their plans, and then laugh as he plunges a dagger in her heart. Another swallow of the liquid, then another, and another, and Estarossa becomes more and more convinced that this must be the truth.

The idea gives him new life, and despite the way his head swims, Estarossa is feeling a bit of relief. It has been so _difficult_ to come to terms with the idea that Meliodas is a traitor, and he seizes on this idea as the hope he needs.

But even as he relaxes back in his chair, reaching out to pour himself another drink, the images he has collected over the past few weeks start to argue back. His mouth on her skin, his body between her thighs, her hands in his hair as her mouth hands open in pleasure. Different variations shuffle in his mind's eye. Estarossa has followed him nearly every day as he leaves the fortress, praying that he is not going to her, dreading that he must be. What else would pull him away from the planning of the war? What else would make him tempt the king's wrath at his absence?

Meliodas is very clever, Estarossa reassures himself. Seducing a goddess and using it to gain a foothold into the secrets of their enemy will please their father and further his brother's power among the demons. For a moment, Estarossa grits his teeth, then coughs a bit as he drinks a bit too fast. If Elizabeth had been _his_ catch on the hunt, perhaps he would have been able to make the same move. And she _was_ his catch, _his prey_ , and Meliodas stole her from him. His brother is making a play for power among the clans—a play that should have been _his_ to make.

Quickly he takes another sip. The alcohol helps him keep the anger at bay that would be his demise. Estarossa is the Commandment of Love and does not feel anger. He does not have hate in his heart. Even for his thieving brother. Even for the woman who has ensnared him.

 _Something must be done_ , he thinks to himself, shakily pressing the glass against his lips. He hears a pounding from somewhere, but ignores it, the images of Meliodas with the goddess flipping through his mind like pages in a book. There is another sound, wood against stone, a click and a voice, but still Estarossa daydreams with his eyes shut. He pictures Elizabeth underneath him, her chest heaving, her head tilted to the side. What if he had thrust his hips forward, instead of pulling the feather from her wing? Would she have welcomed him as easily as she did Meliodas, would she be an object of pleasure for him instead of his brother?

His hand slides into his pocket, where only the frayed remains of the feather are left. The demon has rubbed the delicate item between his fingers so many times, it is nearly disintegrated. Only a few strands are left, and these he twirls in his fingers, thinking of her pale skin and haughty voice and the strength in her limbs. Those could have been his, if he so chose.

A shiver of revulsion runs through him. The idea of lowering himself for such a creature, for _any_ creature not of the demon clan, disgusts him.

"Brother!" A demanding voice breaks through his thoughts, and opening his eyes he sees Zeldris standing over him, his arms folded and a look of deep disapproval on his face. "Where is Meliodas?"

The irony causes Estarossa to bark out a harsh laugh. "Take your pick," he answers tiredly, pulling himself up straight in his chair.

Zeldris scowls at him as he puts his glass down heavily on the table. "You are pathetic," scolds the younger brother.

This time it is Estarossa's turn to scowl. "What do you _want_?" he growls.

"I want to speak to Meliodas," he answers. "He's supposed to be our captain, and yet where is he? These plans are moving too slowly for my taste."

At this the demon truly laughs, drawing another deep frown from his brother. "Zeldris, I realize you are a new member of our group, so allow me to give you a bit of advice." He sits forward, resting his elbows on the table, and says, "Do not question Meliodas. Do not question orders."

"I'm not _questioning_ him," Zeldris protests. "I just want to know what we are doing. The clans are amassing a giant alliance and here we are, sitting here looking at maps. We should be doing something."

"Oh, he's doing _something_ all right," Estarossa mutters into his glass.

Zeldris slams his hand on the table, actually startling him. "What does that mean? I know you know where he is!" he accuses.

Slowly Estarossa finishes his drink and lays the glass on the table. Then he looks up at his brother and says, "He's with the goddess."

"What? What goddess?" He watches as Zeldris frowns, and then realization sweeps over his face. "Not—"

"Exactly." Watching Zeldris struggle to maintain his composure is amusing, so Estarossa allows the confession to hang in the air for several moments before he continues, "He's been meeting with her nearly every day for weeks. Surely you must have noticed his frequent absences."

"But he said he was out scouting," Zeldris says. "He said he was gathering information."

Estarossa snorts. "Well, instead he's been fucking a goddess."

Zeldris makes a sound of disgust. "Don't be vulgar." Turning away, the demon begins to pace the room. "But why? Why is he doing this? Is she a traitor? Why doesn't he just bring her back here?"

He looks at his brother with thinly veiled contempt. When will Zeldris ever learn to _think_? "Because he is in love with her, you idiot," he snaps.

Both brothers draw up short, staring at one another. Now that he has said it out loud, it cannot be taken back; all of the excuses and the stories Estarossa has told himself over the previous weeks immediately vanish. The moment is tense, the air tight between them. Estarossa can feel himself shaking as the truth takes hold inside of him.

"Then he is a traitor," Zeldris says harshly. "He needs to be destroyed."

At this, Estarossa is up, and grabs his brother by the neck. "You will not touch him," he says quietly. Zeldris pushes at his arm, trying to make him let go, but Estarossa needs this moment to calm himself before he releases his churning emotions in a flash of rage towards his younger brother.

After a few moments, his breathing slows, and he feels well enough to relax the grip on Zeldris' neck. The demon finally pushes him away, his own eyes dark and angry. "You would defend him? Defend a traitor to our kind? To our king?" His voice is nearly dripping with loathing. "Then you are no better than him. I should kill you where you stand." Estarossa turns away, but Zeldris continues, "How could he do this? And with a _goddess_ of all things."

"This from the one fucking a vampire," he sneers.

Estarossa can see the blow coming a fraction of a second later, but all he has time to do is bring his arm up to block it. Zeldris' sword clangs against the metal arm brace he wears, and the two stare at one another in contempt for a moment before Estarossa pushes him back. With a shout Zeldris lunges again, his sword flashing as he strikes, but this time, Estarossa is prepared. He pulls his own weapon just as his brother's lands and calls, " _Full Counter_."

Zeldris stumbles back, coughing with a twisted furor and clutching his bleeding stomach. "What was _that_?" he cries, looking in horror from his now-healing injury to his indifferent brother. "That was _Full Counter_? You created an attack based on _Meliodas'_ own?" Zeldris gives a harsh laugh that turns into a grunt of pain as he forces himself upright. "You really are pathetic."

Silently, Estarossa stares at his brother, who tenderly checks the gash in his torso. The wound has already stopped bleeding and is nearly sewn back together, the healing power practically miraculous with the added strength of his new Commandment. He keeps his mask of indifference on as Zeldris' head snaps up.

"Let's not fight, brother," Estarossa says smoothly. "After all, we have a common enemy."

A pulsing rage is nearly flowing from Zeldris, but to his credit he says, "You are right. We shouldn't fight among ourselves. Not when we have a traitor to deal with."

Estarossa narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Now healed, Zeldris sheathes his weapon. "I will go and find him and deliver his fate. Meliodas will face the Commandment of Piety and answer for his treachery."

"No," Estarossa says firmly. "It is the goddess who must be dealt with. She tempted him, she ensnared him. She made him fall in love."

"Do you really think Meliodas is so weak as that?" asked Zeldris with a bit of incredulity.

"Do you really underestimate the evil the goddess clan can cause?" Estarossa counters.

"It makes no difference!" the younger exclaims. "It is _his_ sin. _His_ betrayal."

Growling, Estarossa says slowly, "If we eliminate Elizabeth, then the sin will be expunged."

Now at an impasse, they fall into silence again; then Zeldris gives a cold smile. "Then I suppose the hunt is on," he says, disappearing from the room in a flash.

Estarossa pours himself one more drink before he goes. If Zeldris thinks it will be so easy to track their brother and take him out, let the fool be taught a lesson. Meanwhile, he will make sure to deal with the real threat to his brother.

.o0o.

Zeldris can tell that Meliodas is close; he can feel the powerful energy of his brother as he moves along the mountainside. The terrain is rocky, the earth damp from an afternoon drizzle, but that does nothing to deter the demon's hunt.

He is new to his post in the Ten Commandments, the appointment only having been made a short time ago. But Zeldris takes his role seriously as the Commandment of Piety, the king's hand, his representative in the demon realm—and Britannia by extension. Those who are bound to the demons must obey, and those who are not must be destroyed. The choice is a simple one, the justice he is sworn to deliver sure.

There is right and wrong. The loyal and the enemy. Us and them. Those who deserve life, and those that will meet death by his hand.

Now he is after what will soon be his newest victim, the latest transgressor against the demons, against the king, against _himself_. He feels the surging power like sparks in his veins, his body still adjusting to the new levels, his soul sometimes burning from the magic inside of him now. It is terrible and thrilling all at once, and Zeldris cannot _wait_ to unleash his full potential on Meliodas.

Meliodas, his brother, his captain, the next in line for the throne, the most feared being in the world. The other clans bow to his callousness, his own people follow him without question, the fate of the demon clan rests on his shoulders. He is not challenged. He has no equal. His power is unmatched. He does not face judgment from anyone.

Until today.

The breeze picks up, and Zeldris pauses. He catches a shifting that could only mean that the energy has changed, so he continues on, more cautiously. The demon draws on all the years of lessons and beatings and challenges that have built him into the machine he is now. Zeldris is a soldier, an executioner. He performs justice without passion or emotion, unlike Estarossa who can read the hate borne inside a heart. Such affections are not worth his time or attention.

Although in the back of his mind, this _is_ a bit personal. Zeldris has been waiting for a moment like this, to seize command from Meliodas. He is nearly as powerful now. Why shouldn't he take the chance, now that he has it? Zeldris had never had the strength or opportunity to make such a move, knowing if Meliodas did not kill him for striking, the king would do away with him for taking out his favored son and weapon. But now he has a reason, and he will not squander it with hesitation.

The only thing that will make Meliodas' demise at his hand even more satisfying is the look on Estarossa's face when his body is nothing more than a corpse. He is due a payback as well, with his snide remarks and his condescension and the way he speaks so _callously_ about everything... as if nothing matters but himself. His anger flares as he moves, sending a bolt of fire towards a tree and setting it aflame. Estarossa is willing to defend a traitor to his last breath, while Zeldris is the subject of his mockery and derision, who must abide by his insults about his abilities, bear to hear his comments about the vampire—

 _Calm down_. He pauses, taking one deep breath after another. Isn't that what Meliodas always says? A hunter must be calm, determined, patient. He is forever chastising Zeldris for his rashness.

Soon the demon continues his pursuit. He must find Meliodas and get rid of him before Estarossa arrives; he has no chance against both of them together. The power he is seeking increases sharply, and Zeldris pushes himself faster. Is Estarossa there already? Is there a confrontation happening?

Quickly he surges forward, his hand poised to pull his sword. He presses himself behind a tree, drawing in his darkness to remain undetected, and pushes his senses forward.

There _is_ a confrontation happening, but it is not his brothers; it is Meliodas and a goddess. Staying in the shadows, Zeldris peers around the thick trunk to observe. His eyes can see easily in the growing twilight, and he appreciates the fact that the goddess is, in fact, very beautiful. If Meliodas had been a baser demon, he may have even understood the betrayal. But there is _no_ reason, _no_ woman worth such impiety.

His brother stands with his arms folded, his chin lowered with a dark look on his face. "If we look for where they are being held, then maybe we can do something about this."

"But Meliodas!" the goddess exclaims, her voice still sweet despite the anger that edges it. "How could they be capable of such things? My own clan—I just can't believe this—"

"We don't know anything for sure," he says firmly. "This might not be as bad as it seems." Heaving a sigh, he says, "Besides, this is a war. There will be prisoners, but that doesn't mean that the goddesses will hurt them."

"How can they do this?" Her voice falters, and the goddess stops her pacing, placing one hand over her mouth. "These are civilians—there are _children_ among them—"

"Shhh, don't worry," hushes Meliodas, and he places his hands on her arms, rubbing her skin soothingly. The sight of him offering comfort to the goddess turns Zeldris' stomach. This is the next king of demons? Then he pulls the trembling girl against him, his hands tracing along her bare back, his lips pressing against the side of her head. "There is nothing we cannot do together. We will figure this out."

Perhaps Estarossa was onto something. This change was so dramatic that he can hardly believe it. His mouth twists into a smile as he imagines how easy it will be to take out this new Meliodas. Will he even fight back?

Zeldris takes a step forward, and watches as Meliodas looks up at him, as if he can hear his sword being pulled from its sheath. His presence now known, he steps out from the shadows, his face stoic as he faces his brother. The demon can feel his power thrashing, begging to be let out, the mark on his skin burning and his blood nearly on fire with the want of killing Meliodas. His very being is reacting to the treachery he just witnessed, his demon nature churning as the vile goddess turns and catches sight of him.

"Meliodas," he says, his voice low and dangerous. Zeldris draws his mouth into a tight scowl, his eyes hard on his brother.

He pushes the goddess to the side, hissing, "Elizabeth, go."

The girl stumbles for a moment, gasping, "Meliodas! What—"

"Just _go_ , Elizabeth, _now_!" he shouts. The goddess immediately turns and runs, her white wings flashing outwards before she disappears behind the trees.

Meliodas has his weapon in his hand before he even turns back to him. "I don't want to kill you," he says, the threat clear despite his words.

Zeldris does not flinch. "You won't have the opportunity. I am the Commandment of Piety, and you are a traitor."

His brother tilts his head slightly, the demon mark suddenly flaring. It slinks across his brow and down the side of his face, his eyes turning into dark pools as a sickening smile peaks the side of his mouth. "As a fellow Commandment, you must know that I cannot fall prey to your decree."

"You won't be for much longer," answers Zeldris. "Your betrayal is your death sentence."

To his fury, Meliodas' smile widens a bit as he spreads his hands. "Come then, bring your justice."

All at once their swords clash, the quiet mountain now echoing one clang after another as they meet again and again. The power from his Commandment has made Zeldris faster, sharper, stronger, and he easily evades Meliodas now. For so many years, he has been unable to defeat him, unable to dodge his swipes and counter his blows; but he has studied him, observed and learned his techniques, and it's as if all the puzzle pieces have clicked into place at once. Now he can _see_ Meliodas move, can anticipate the angle and force of each turn and twist of the sword. And Zeldris can counter him easily, huffing in triumph to see the beads of perspiration now on his brother's brow, to hear the tight breathing with his sudden exertion.

But even with this added strength, Meliodas still has many more years of experience on his younger brother, who falters on the slippery rocks as the rain picks up its speed. Zeldris swipes back at a blast of _Enchant Hellblaze_ , sending his own attack _Hellblaze Ruin_ back at his brother. He knows he has only a second before Meliodas will use _Full Counter_ , and in that second he disappears in a flash, reappearing behind the older demon, raising his sword to plunge into the first of his seven hearts.

Yet that slip made him a fraction of a second too late; Meliodas anticipates his play, and he jumps from his place on the hill out of the way of the strike. Only a few blonde hairs remain where Meliodas once stood, and Zeldris finally gives a little shout in frustration, taking to the air to follow his brother.

"Stop this!" Meliodas calls, and Zeldris turns, scanning for him. "Come out here and face me!" Zeldris shouts back, gripping his sword so tightly his hand is aching.

He does, the demon stepping out, his hand raised over his head, poised to draw his sword now resting on his back. Meliodas looks up at him through the rain-soaked bangs covering his face in strings. His face shows a murderous intent that is precarious, having it focused solely on _him_ ; however, it is also refreshingly familiar. "Do not worry, brother," Zeldris says. "Your death will be clean. I owe you that much, I suppose."

Just then, a scream breaks through the air, and both brothers turn at the sound. Zeldris narrows his eyes, but Meliodas bolts forward, the ground torn in his frenzied run and a cry of his own ripping from his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** It's been so long! The first half of this chapter has been sitting in my Google drive for nearly two months. But I have had many passion projects pulling my attention along the way, so it was only with a brief bit of inspiration that I dug this out and finally finished it. (A four hour nap today didn't hurt either.)

I must humbly thank BettyBest2 for her assistance with Zeldris and woundedowl for her assistance with Estarossa. I am grateful for both of you wonderful writers and I thank you both for the strange conversations we had regarding the demons and this chapter.

* * *

The air is shifting. Estarossa can see it as his eyes scan the way the leaves move in the trees, the way the grass that dots the ground bends. But it is not the wind causing the change, but a force moving nearby. A few pebbles become unsettled and tumble down a slope, a few drops of leftover rain hit his coat as he stands and listens. There is a bird that calls in the distance. A breeze causes the branches of a tree to knock against the trunk.

He is drunk again, and not just on alcohol. He is drunk on the hunt, on the _want_. He is drunk on knowing that he will soon be soothed by bloodshed. Estarossa does not often hunt on his own, preferring the strategy of being in a partnership or group. There is beauty, he feels, in the way warriors move together to take down their prey. Even the animals, when they hunt, have an artistry all their own.

But when he works alone, it is as dangerous and destructive as he is, chaotic and violent and breathtaking.

It is easy to find his wayward brother and the cursed goddess. Their energies fill the air unwittingly, and he wonders in disgust if it is because they are once more locked in some carnal activity. Estarossa grits his teeth with detestation at the thought, the vision of Meliodas thrusting with abandon as she twists and cries out in pleasure leaving pure distaste in his mouth. But a part of him hopes to find Meliodas in such a position; it would be a fitting end for such a betrayal to be slaughtered with his dick inside of a goddess.

The vision leaves him feeling unsettled, so Estarossa refocuses on his approach. Then another energy touches his, making him roll his eyes. Zeldris is proving a better hunter than he let on, although he needs to learn to keep himself hidden. The younger brother is moving quickly, but that does not matter. Estarossa knows Meliodas too well. He will let Zeldris stumble on their brother, so that the older sends the goddess away. Then all he needs to do is wait.

The plan bears fruit with the sound of running footsteps and skidding rocks. Estarossa shields himself, moving behind a tree to observe the approaching girl. Elizabeth is every bit as magnificent as he remembers, her hair shining as it blows behind her, the uniform clinging to her from her exertion, her face flushed, her lips parted. She comes to a stop, pausing to catch her breath, and looks back the way she came. "Where are you, Meliodas?" she hisses, and the demon observes the way her fingers twitch over the hilt of her sword.

The glorious wings expand behind her, giving a little shake as she prepares to take flight. But then again, she hesitates, her entire body stilling. Estarossa waits with barely a breath escaping until her head tilts slowly, steadily to the side.

The change in her would be imperceptible to any other hunter; but this is far from the first goddess Estarossa has ever sought. Elizabeth raises one hand slowly, deliberately, reaching for the arrows slung across her back with a measured movement. Then at once she whirls, an arrow held steadily on the bow and the string pulled back, her body now in a fighting position.

But the aim is off, so Estarossa knows that she can _feel_ him, but not _pinpoint_ him. And with this advantage he moves, faster than the naked eye can see. The arrow goes flying to clip the tree that served as his hiding spot, and before it sinks into the ground several yards away he has Elizabeth trapped in his grip.

Her back is pressed against his chest, one hand on her neck, the other catching her arms after knocking the bow away. There is still the matter of the sword on her hip, but the grip on her wrists keep her from reaching it for now. Elizabeth immediately struggles and Estarossa feels her body tense in preparation of jumping. However, he has learned that move already, and less than a second after she is secure in his hands he says, "I will snap your neck if you move."

Thankfully, the goddess stills at once. It must have been the tone in his voice, which had even surprised Estarossa a bit. There was no hint of teasing, no promises, no threats. Just the simple truth that her life would be over in the split second it would take to crush his fingers against her neck.

What a lovely neck it is, he muses. Now that Elizabeth is frozen, he spends the next moment admiring the creature braced against him. His eyes zero in on the smooth white skin and the strained cords below that prove how very strong she is. He can feel it as well in the tension in her arms, the toned back and thighs pressed against him. This is not the delicate girl that her beauty would indicate. Her deception would be impressive if it did not fill him with such coldness.

Her head is on his shoulder. "Are you Estarossa?" she gasps out.

His eyebrows arch a bit in surprise. "You remember me?"

"You're Meliodas' brother."

The pronouncement irritates him more than he could have ever imagined. Estarossa has always taken such pride in such a thing. He enjoys being Meliodas' brother, he _loves_ it, loves his brother, loves the respect he commands, loves the fear and the tribute and the cowering of others. He loves thinking of himself as his second, as his closest companion and partner. He loves when he can just look at someone with the same threatening expression, the same eyes and same face, the same air of authority and callousness. Even though it isn't quite up to the same level as his older brother, Estarossa accepts it.

They are brothers, and that _means_ something. It means a great deal, because when their subjects or soldiers or enemies look at him they can see the figure of Meliodas like a shadow next to him. It means that every victory he has is because of his brother, and vice versa. They are connected in a way that cannot be severed. They are connected by _blood_.

Until now, that is. His hands squeeze a bit tighter as he looks at the girl. Estarossa can see that he is no longer the closest to the fearsome demon. He can see that Meliodas no longer fights for him, for what they and their family and their race stands for. He can see that any glory and titles and power he takes from now on will not be shared with his brother, but shared with a goddess.

A goddess who does not remember that _he_ was the one who captured her.

A goddess who does not recall that _he_ was the one who killed her friend.

A goddess who knows him only by his brother.

"How did you do it?" he snarls into her ear. The hand on her throat tightens a bit, and she winces. "Was it magic? Did you put a spell on him?"

"No," she bites out as best as she can. "I love him."

" _Love him?_ "

The idea is so incredulous, so absolutely _ridiculous_ , that for a moment he releases his grip. Elizabeth stumbles forward, seizing the opportunity, but the demon recovers quickly. Estarossa lurches to grab her up again; with a shout, the goddess spins and throws her fist. He manages to dodge in the last possible moment, avoiding taking the blow on his jaw, but still absorbing a great deal on his chin.

The two begin to tussle as Elizabeth kicks at him, throwing another punch. However, Estarossa sees her play and grabs her by the forearm, jerking her off balance. Yet the goddess will not be deterred, throwing her other arm towards him. Her elbow connects with his ribs, stunning him for a moment, and as Estarossa sucks in a tight breath she lands another kick with her own breathless laugh.

That laugh, that damned _laugh_ , and now Estarossa is getting _angry_. But the Commandment of Love cannot feel hate in his heart, so he fights back. What the goddess has on him with her agility he more than makes up for with his strength and the fact that he is so much larger than she. Blow by blow they fight, back and forth, _kick_ , _punch_ , _swipe_ , and each time she tries to fly or flee he grabs a hold of something and yanks her back into it.

"Let me _go_!"

Another kick, another swipe with an elbow, another yank of silver hair.

"You _bastard_!"

She draws her knife, he does the same. Blood trickles down his chest and along her arm. Another elbow to ribs, another backhand, another swipe of leg. Another yank of silver hair.

Elizabeth staggers to the side as his fist connects to her stomach. Estarossa stumbles back as her heel connects to his thigh. Her knife in his shoulder, his elbow in her lower back. She moves to pull her sword, and he grabs her arm and dislocates her shoulder before the blade can leave the sheath. She screams, he screams, and yanks her down by her silver hair.

In an instant they are on the ground, his hand on her leg. Furiously she tries to crawl away, kicking at his face, but he jerks her backwards towards him. Their fight continues on the ground, but the goddess is tired from her run, her arm hurt, and he can sense before she can that she is losing this fight.

Yet somehow, _somehow_ , she twists her body, kicking him off of her, and her sword is pulled free. Elizabeth thrusts upwards, and Estarossa watches in his mind's eye as she plants it into his chest, piercing his hearts. So before the blade can connect, his own appears, and he gasps out, " _Full Counter._ "

The blast knocks her away. Estarossa remains where he is, using the moment to catch his breath. Her screaming draws his attention, and slowly the demon rises to his feet.

His boots make dull thuds as he walks towards her. Elizabeth scrambles up as best as she can, her back against a large rock. The dislocated arm is pressed tightly to her side, while the other is wrapped around her bloodied torso. He smiles to see that she still lives, despite the gash from her own blade. The slash meant to take _his_ life is now draining her own.

His blood is rushing, pulsing as he approaches the goddess. The blue eyes that lock on him are full of fire, and for a moment he is worried that she hates him. "Careful, goddess," he warns. "Surely my brother has warned you of my Commandment."

Elizabeth struggles to take a calming breath, her eyes clouding with pain from the effort. "Don't come any closer," she gasps out, a bit of blood trickling down her lip.

Estarossa frowns. "He didn't warn you about me, did he?" The idea annoys him, all at once needing to know the answer. "Did he speak of me at all?" He reaches her, and crouches down to take a closer look. "Tell me, Elizabeth. What has Meliodas told you about me?"

For a long moment she does not look at him, her eyes closed as she struggles to breathe. A glance downwards shows that the cut in her chest is deep, and still bleeding. She grits her teeth as her body instinctively flinches away from him, but then after a moment, she turns her face to look at him. "I asked him once," she says through shaking breaths. "I asked him who had killed my friend, and he said, it was no one important."

.o0o.

" _Meliodas_!"

Zeldris watches him crash through the forest towards the scream. For a moment he stands stunned; what about their fight? Then a thought hits him: _move, moron_ , and at once he goes, giving his brother chase.

Pursuing Meliodas is not an easy task, but his enhanced powers surge through him as he follows. He knows as well as his brother what that scream was, and if it involves Estarossa then Zeldris has less time than he thought. This is the idea that is in the forefront of his mind when he surges with a burst of sudden speed, crashing hard into Meliodas and sending them both skidding down the side of the hill.

Inelegant, but effective. Zeldris stumbles up at the bottom of a deep rut in the earth that his body caused. Meliodas is doing the same, but he turns furiously at his younger brother. "You'll _die_ for that," he promises; not a shout, not a scream, but that booming threat only the greatest demon alive could produce.

Zeldris is suddenly afraid. That fear is both familiar and foreign, and in a moment it is accompanied by a rush of rage. "Just _try_ it!" he calls back, his own voice tight with emotion.

Meliodas reaches out his hand, and the giant sword that is the bane of Britannia appears. Zeldris can feel his spine tingle and his arms burn in anticipation; yet the haze of emotion becomes fuel as he advances.

How many times have they done just this? How many times have the brothers sparred, one greatly outmatched, one ending up bloody as the other laughed? The moves are as natural as breathing, for they had been doing this since Zeldris could hold a sword. The dance of their steps and the weaving of their bodies around one another are built on a connection that goes beyond the years. They are brothers, tied by blood, tied by power and pride and the _king himself_ , their oaths to him and their place in this world entwining them forever.

It is like fighting himself, Zeldris would muse later; the power newly gifted by his father, the gift that is a curse unlike any other, allows him to see as he never could before. And he _hates_ it.

"You are weak, Meliodas," he laughs in amazement and derision. "Is this what fucking a goddess does to a demon?"

"Don't be vulgar," his brother chastises him, and it makes his ears burn. He is always giving lessons, _everything_ is a lesson. Isn't that what Estarossa says?

But he is not a student. Not any more. "Your days of giving me orders are over." They slide along the earth, the sound of metal on metal ringing in echoes against the rock.

"Poor Zeldris," Meliodas jeers in return. "Always a step behind. Always in third."

New rage fills them both, and as the minutes tick by in a blur of metal and flesh and blood, the mountainside is ruined in their wrath. But then a burst of energy catches their attention and interrupts the fight.

Zeldris is not surprised by the energy; after all, he knows who lurks in the mountains, hunting. But Meliodas cries out, turning in the direction of the powerful blast. "That was _Full Counter_!" he shouts. "But how?"

He is scrambling in his fear and confusion, and Zeldris uses his distraction to attack. " _Hellblaze Ruin_!" calls the younger demon, and to his satisfaction the strike hits him directly. Meliodas falls, a cloud of dirt and rock and debris lifting, and Zeldris chases after in elation.

The exhilaration of defeating his brother fills him as he steps up to the bruised and bleeding body on the ground. "You're defeated," he says simply, kicking away the sword that now lays on the ground.

Meliodas does not answer, but his chest is rising and falling, showing that he still lives. Zeldris smirks as he approaches the head of blonde hair now covered in dirt and blood. "You have fallen so far," he muses, and is only partly surprised when Meliodas gives a rasping laugh. "It wasn't more than a few meters, I think," he jokes.

Zeldris' eyes harden. "You are the greatest demon alive," he snaps, stopping to look down at his brother. "You have given it all away and joined the enemy."

One eye cracks open, and Zeldris is taken aback. Because the deep orbs of black that belong to his brother are now lightened, softened, and tinged with green. "What is this?" cries Zeldris. "What is wrong with your eyes?"

Meliodas chuckles again. "You are afraid, Zeldris," he says. "I can taste your fear."

The dark one shakes his head, raising his weapon. "No, _you_ are the one who should be afraid. _You_ are the one—"

"Your hand is trembling," continues Meliodas, calm and cold as the sea.

"Not enough to stop me from killing you." Zeldris thrusts his arm forward, stopping just as the tip of the blade enters his brother's chest.

For a long moment the two stare at each other. "Go on then," Meliodas says. To Zeldris' relief, his eyes return to the bottomless black pools he knows well. "You know where to strike. So strike!"

Zeldris grits his teeth. "You think I won't—"

"Strike, Zeldris!" Meliodas shouts. He starts to stand, the tip pressed into his skin, blood seeping out in a thin line. "You are a Commandment now, aren't you? The king's executioner? Do your _duty_ , Zeldris!"

He steps backwards as his older brother advances. "Aren't you here to kill me? Aren't you going to deliver your _justice_? So what is stopping you? What is holding your hand but fear?"

Zeldris raises his wrist, pushing the sword forward. Meliodas stops his advance, but does not flinch as his skin is broken. The brothers stare at each other, two identical faces, two sides of the same coin. And Zeldris knows, at this moment, that something is happening; a choice is being made, a shift he cannot explain, that is changing everything he knows. Their roles are… _reversing_.

It makes him sick with shame.

"You are my brother!" he cries. _Don't make me do this._ "You're our leader, the next king!" Meliodas steps to the right, and Zeldris follows, the blade still poised against his skin. "You've given up everything for a _goddess_. The _enemy_." As Zeldris watches a cold quiet settle on his brother, his own insides are boiling with confusion and terror. "If I don't do this, then _He_ will, you _know_ He will. This won't be forgiven. You'll be—you'll be—" _Don't make me choose._

"Then do it." The command is clear, and for a moment, Zeldris feels his shoulders relax. The two are back to their usual roles, and as the world around him settles into neat places, clarity is a welcomed gift.

But then Meliodas continues, his voice and his face like ice. "Do it, Zeldris. You're right, He will not forgive what I've done. It will be cruel, and endless. I would prefer death at your hand."

"No—"

"Do it! What are you _waiting_ for?!" The shout makes Zeldris jump. "Are you scared, little brother? Are you afraid of what it will be like when I'm gone? You want this life of slavery, so take it, Zeldris. _Take it_."

Meliodas glares at him through the bangs plastered on the soaked forehead. "You're my brother," Zeldris says again.

He nods. "And you are mine. But I owe you nothing. Not you, not the damned king, not this entire race of blind followers."

" _No_ —"

"Your disgusting faith in this clan bores me. You think loyalty makes you strong? That your place as a prince and a soldier gives you power? You know nothing, absolutely _nothing_ , and I am _sick_ to call you brother. Following orders, drawing blood, the _hunt_? It is worthless. The demon clan is nothing but a pack of worthless cunts."

Each word is more powerful than any of the blows he had ever delivered.

"I have found something else that you can never understand. I have found something greater than even _Him_."

Blonde hair and light eyes comes into his vision, a soft smile, and he knows, even though he holds the weapon, he has been defeated.

"So either kill me, Zeldris, or get the fuck out of my way."

.o0o.

 _Move, move, move_.

It had been less than ten minutes since Meliodas saw _Full Counter_ used somewhere in the distance. It was a sight that had jarred him deeper than he could have ever imagined. Yet here he is, running towards his own attack.

 _Faster, find her._

He knows the devastation that _Full Counter_ brings. It is why he uses it, why he honed it so precisely, why he barely even needs a sword to perform the act. Anything will do, truly, as long as he can pinpoint the point of collision. It is a euphoria to use his power in this way, a bliss that can only be compared to a handful of other things in his life. One of those things he is rushing towards now.

 _Where is she?_

The others had mocked him when he was younger for such an attack. _Why a defensive one?_ they would ask. _Why waste your power only in response to another?_

Meliodas would ignore them and smirk to himself. The fools that surrounded him in the demon clan, his own blood, his companions and teammates and charges, his family, _none_ of them understood him. It had always confounded him how very shortsighted they all were. All they saw was the clan, their beliefs, their doctrine of strength and power repeated in every rhyme and lesson and prayer. So the subtleties of forcing your opponent to strike first was lost on them. The conviction needed to face an attack and let it connect is more powerful than any of their magic or dark fire.

So he had worked on this skill, the manifestation of the power that had awoken in him earlier than any other demon. And it became a weapon more feared than any attack. How could the enemy hope to overcome Meliodas when he wields their own power against them? The only way to win was to surrender. But Meliodas does not accept surrender.

There is only one alive who had ever tried to understand. Only one alive who was brave enough and foolish enough to take such a risk.

That one is now crouched over the goddess he loves, his face calm as he chokes her. Elizabeth is clawing at his arms, but her fingers are weakening, her body covered in blood.

Meliodas cries out. Those blank eyes turn towards him, and at once his fist is flying. Estarossa goes crashing away, and he scoops the goddess into his arms, shaking as he feels for a heartbeat. "Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he says again and again, like a prayer.

Her hand presses weakly on his arm. "Meliodas…"

The deadly purgatory fire that flares towards them catches his senses in the nick of time; a moment later what is left of his coat and shirt are burned away as he covers Elizabeth to protect her from the flames. The pain is intense, but bearable, as his body absorbs the shock. Carefully he lets go of the goddess and stands to face the enemy.

"Have you come for my prize again, Meliodas?" Estarossa says pleasantly, as if discussing a deer caught in the woods.

"She is mine," he answers simply.

Estarossa tilts his head to glance at the bleeding girl on the ground. "Perhaps we can make an arrangement?"

Meliodas clenches his fists. "I said, she is—"

"I _know_ what she is!" Estarossa's sudden outburst catches him off-guard, and Meliodas can feel the way his brother struggles to keep back the threatening waves of animosity. "Do you think there is anything of you I don't know? Do you think I have not seen your betrayal with my own eyes? That I have not been as burdened as you with carrying this shame?"

"So you are the reason why Zeldris knew." Meliodas watches Estarossa's face carefully. The mask that is a necessary part of his Commandment is there, making him unable to anticipate his moves. But he does not wish to give himself away, so the demon takes a few casual steps to the side, drawing his attention from Elizabeth. "What kind of sick fuck are you, Estarossa? Watching me fuck a goddess? Is that how you are getting off these days?"

Estarossa gives him a chilling smile. "You will not goad _me_ , Meliodas. I am not so easily provoked as our youngest brother."

Meliodas spies a long, pointed stick on the ground, crouching down slowly to pick it up. "You can't have her," he says. "You can't have me, either."

"You did not tell her about me," Estarossa says curiously. "Why is that?"

"The demons are my past," replies Meliodas. "She is my future. You mean nothing to me now."

Estarossa swallows visibly. "You are my brother. I will never forgive this betrayal."

Meliodas nods. "Which is why one of us must die."

Both step forward, Estarossa with his sword, Meliodas with his stick. Behind him he hears Elizabeth give a soft whine. It fills him with a pain that he is unused to, and has him tumbling towards a heated thirst for revenge. "This is your last chance, Estarossa," he warns. "I will let you go. Just turn and walk away. Zeldris is waiting for you."

"Thank you, my brother," he says sadly. "I will remember you when you are gone."

"I have too much to live for now," replies Meliodas.

He can see the hurt in the outer corners of Estarossa's eyes, and if Elizabeth's struggling breaths behind him were not echoing in his ears, he may have felt some pity. "Now?" asks Estarossa. "Only now do you have something to live for?"

Meliodas nods. He can feel the demon mark burning down the side of his face as his powers begin to swirl. The remains of his shirt, little more than sleeves, and the ripped and ragged trousers begin to move with the swirl of energy that lifts his hair and blasts heat over his skin.

A witness to such a battle would surely wonder, do these two not love one another? And the answer to that would be, as always, _yes_. It is because of this love, and because of the way they regard one another, the knowledge the comes being companions and brothers, that this fire burns so fiercely. Each would lay down his head for the other, would lay down his life to stop harm from coming to the other. This is love.

But that does not preclude the hate that manifests between them. Sweat pours down Meliodas' brow, his eyes steel as sparks of magic fly between them. The battle builds on blow after blow, the agony meaningless. They are well matched, now that Meliodas has lost his weapon.

As each would give their lives for the other, each also wants nothing more than to open the other's head on his weapon, to break the other with injury and humiliation. Beneath the blows that the two deliver on one another is a mixture of love and hate that is not often seen among any race or any opponents. Both of these demons love one another; that love has rotted, it has corrupted, it has given each the resolve to kill. The bitterness between them is as sharp as Estarossa's sword.

Their clothes are torn as they scratch against the rocky earth. Meliodas' cheek opens with one particular slice; his own _Full Counter_ is too much for Estarossa to stand when he sends a magic attack. But there is no repose, there is no retreat. Neither dares to call a truce. They fight as the day draws on, until there is nothing but dirt and blood.

Meliodas is so cruel, he has no more desire to let his brother go. With Zeldris, he had dared to challenge him, knowing that deep down his youngest brother had no stomach yet for such a powerful move. But Estarossa, he knows, will not back down. However long it takes, this match will be decided. So he weaves and strikes with the stick as his weapon. Death at Estarossa's hand would be an honor, he decides, but not an honor he wishes for today.

They strike with violence, with precision. They attack to kill, not injure. Their weapons are broken, their armor dented, their skin marked black and blue, blood running in rivers onto the cracked ground. Their breath is exhausted with their labors, their eyes stinging, their muscles screaming, their fists aching. And yet the love they have for one another is still bubbling like a cauldron, the hate they have for this final act between brothers pushing and pushing and _pushing_ until one or the other loses utterly.


End file.
